


Fifty Shades Of Green

by Tkorg



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Adulting, Alec is Italian, Alternate Universe - Golf, Anal Sex, Awkward Sexual Situations, BDSM, Blowjobs, Confident Alec Lightwood, Daddy Kink, Dom Alec, Dom Alec Lightwood, Fluffy, Golf, Italian Language, M/M, Maryse Lightwood Being An Asshole, Porn With Plot, Sassy Alec, Sub Magnus Bane, serious magnus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-11 13:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tkorg/pseuds/Tkorg
Summary: Alec is a golfer and Magnus golf commentator. Pretty much fifty shades of grey but with golf and abuse replaced with a healthy, fluffy relationship.





	1. Hole One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Alec and Magnus in this story are kinda like the our world inverted ones... but not at the same time? If that makes the slightest of sense

I think the brainwashing from secondary school is finally kicking in. This is the third time I've woke, almost screaming the periodic table. Of course, I never finish it. I always stop at sulphur, get up, and grab a cup of coffee and a half eaten, cold hot pocket. Funny how twenty years, many glasses of wine and a stable job later, I still can't seem to shake that information out of my head. Don't even get me started on Babylonian mythology, I still have nightmares flooded with every god that was forced into my memory. 

So, today being like any other day, I stick to that unfortunate schedule. I yawn, letting my already hoarse throat burn at the contact of air. Ah, nothing wakes you up more than the sweet relief of burning. I rub my eyes and blink a bit. My vision clears, displaying two glasses of what used to contain wine and a children's drawling of absolute nonsense.

I sigh. That's right, I fell asleep on my sister’s couch. Okay, so, not on schedule today are we Magnus? I freeze, hoping I didn't wake my sister with my yelling, or god forbid, her daughter. I get off the couch and let a small groan escape my chapped lips as I make my way to the small kitchen from the parlour. God, I'm old.

I squint at the digital clock on my sister’s used to be white microwave, practically breaking into a sprint to the lavatory as I see the time. It's already five minutes to one!

I shuffle out of my clothes, balancing on one of my legs as I start the shower. I catch my reflection from the mirror out of the corner of my eye as I'm about done disrobing. Damn, I look... interesting. There's blue eyeshadow messily covering my eyelids and mascara everywhere except my eyes. I look like a newly divorced housewife... or a freshly married one. 

I jump as I step in the shower. The cold water hits me harder than I’d like. I deserve it; this will be the second time I've been late to work this week. Jesus, if I wasn't so good at what I do, I'm sure I'd be fired by now. I blindly grab the nearest shampoo bottle and look it over, we’re going with Dora the explora brand today, and squirt the goo into my hand, rubbing it into my hair. I quickly wash the excess off, grab a bar of soap and lather my body.

*****

I tap my fingers impatiently on the granite counter top, waiting for the lady with one too many piercings to call my name. Not... that there’s a huge chance she will get it right. I said it in a rushed whisper, slurring the word into a single sound, so I can’t be that mad. I don’t wait, grabbing the first cup I see with a scribble that somewhat resembles my name. I take one sip and instantly realise my mistake.

“Uh, sir?” A small voice comes from behind me. I turn, my eyes landing on a surprisingly gorgeous woman.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” I curse, handing her, her cup. I chastise myself. Really Magnus? You really think she wants it back now? I reach out, as if to take the cup back, draw my arm back to my body and cringe. I’m usually more charming but... due to the fact I have negative three seconds to get to my job, all that charm has warped into fluster.

“I like your shirt.” She responds, making a show out of sipping on the coffee that had been on my mouth. My body erupts in fire. Oh?

“I, uh, I have to go.” I say, my hands comforting each other behind my back. I bow and turn. Smooth, real smooth.

“Magnus?” The barista calls. Well, that’s just dandy. I grab my coffee from the counter and speed walk out.

“Magnus, was it?” The same woman says, well, more like purrs. I continue walking, nodding. She picks up her speed, her small, thin legs not making as many steps per second as mine. Probably because my legs are three times the length of hers. I’m a fucking giant, and at the moment I’m perfectly content with it.

“Camille, here’s my number.” She winks, slipping me a piece of paper and jogs off. I look at her shamelessly as she departs, suddenly noticing how tight her track suit was. Not now Magnus, you need to get to work.

*****

“You’re late!” My supervisor says. I nod and slip my headphones on, adjusting my screen and sound. I take one last sip of my coffee as my supervisor wobbles over with somebody I don’t recognise. Yeah, wobbles. Gary’s overweight, therefore ‘wobbles’ is the perfect describer and not offensive. Saying he needs to cut back on the chocolate bars would be offensive. I learned that the hard way.

“This is your new assistant, Claire.” He looks back at the girl, who shakes her head. “Sorry, Clary. She’ll do all the grunt work that you don’t want to do. Also, she’s free so, please don’t abuse the privilege that is her existence, thank you. Oh, and if you’re late again, I will crucify you, okay?” Gary grumbles, coughing through his threat. I roll my eyes, nodding.

“Have you visited Rome lately or something... you’ve been talking of crucifixion a lot.” I respond, looking over the events on my roster. Gary makes a face as my new intern, assistant person laughs. God, have I forgotten her name already? I need a new brain. If only you could upgrade them like iPhones.

“Hi.” The girl says, leaning over my shoulder, arms wrapping around my neck. I give her a bewildered glance and look down at her arms. Nobody puts hands on me like that, not even my cat. Damnit, my chairman meow. I never went home last night to feed him. I’m a horrible father.

“Okay, um, this whole physical contact thing is not okay.” I say and she instantly removes herself. At least she wasn’t persistent with her, uh hospitality. God bless New York. I look back at my roster, and one name catches my eye. Alexander “Alec” Lightwood.

“We’re on in five.” Simon, the production guy yells out.  
“What are you looking at?” Clary asks. I mentally snap my fingers, yeah, Clary. I remember, almost like it had been said only a few moments ago. Gee, smart aren’t we?

“Its called a roster, it tells me what I’m going to be talking about.”

“Oh, I just thought you guys improvised.” You guys… you guys. Yeah, us golf commentators… you guys. I huff. I hate having a job that nobody respects. You wouldn’t say that to a doctor or lawyer. I can hear my mum’s voice ringing in my head. I should’ve been a doctor, like my sister. Yeah, yeah, I know.

“No, we don’t, there is a… a thing to this.” I say, trying to keep my annoyance out of my tone and turn towards my screen. I take a deep breath, seeing Simon start to count off.

“Anything you need from me?”

“Yeah, uh, shut up and sit still.” I mutter, the little green light that indicates being live flickers on. Deep breaths, Magnus, deep breaths.

Buzzing starts coming through my headphones, my screen displaying the fields. All the players start walking on the green, like bees to honey. I read off the opening statement written for me, explaining the game and the start of a tournament.

"We have Sebastian Verlac from London, Li Mu from Seoul, Rogers Sutra from Queensland..." I list off others who won't make it through the first game, leaving the best for last. "And, last but never least, Alexander ‘Alec’ Lightwood, the reigning champion for the last two years from New York. This should be an interesting game." The game starts, players who haven't made a huge name for themselves drop low in the stats, and I start betting on who'll be on the bottom of the score board at the end of the eighteenth hole. It's all good fun. The main, top competitors step up, putting. All look closely at the angle of their club and calculate the geometry of the sport itself, how hard the wind is blowing, how that impacts the motion of the ball and the amount of force that would balance everything to their favour, yatah-yatah. You know, formation, actual strategy.

And then, there's Alexander 'caring is irrelevant' Lightwood. He never takes more than five seconds, placing his feet firmly into whatever position he feels like and takes a swing. With the others, I have to explain every single detail, every step to the great equation that is golf. I practically have to hold the audience's hands through math problems and statistics... but not with Alec. It’s almost frustrating how recklessly perfect he is.

“Alec, Alec, Alec." I murmur as he takes his shot, the ball surpassing the others.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, that’s it, a perfect shot. Of course, nothing new. The great Alec Lightwood is nothing less than perfect, day in and day out, just like his father." I pause as my screen zooms in on his face. A playful smirk on his lips and his bright, blue eyes smouldering.  
It's as if he could hear me praising him, watching him. I do it shamelessly. I’m drawn to him and not just because of his unexplainable gift at the game or his 'I don’t care' attitude. It was just him, just everything. He knows it too, he knows he's good, he knows people know that. He puts on a show, giving people what they want.

He gives us a toothy smile, shaking his hand through his hair, looking directly at the camera. There's a small blush on his translucent cheeks, complementing his rosy lips. He turns his head, saying something to his caddy, who nods with a grin. I let my imagination run wild for a couple seconds, thinking of what could’ve left his pretty mouth. A joke perhaps? Or maybe something a bit obscener... I shake my head, turning my attention to the next hole, pushing him out of my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	2. Hole Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise porn is coming soon...

He wins, which isn’t surprising. He always wins. I knew he was going to, he knew he was going to, everybody knew. The only person who seemed to be out of the loop was poor Sebastian Velac. Pitiful thing, he gave his best, but we all know that it was no match to Alec’s best. 

I tap my hand on the desk, watching all the swarms of people walk back to their cars and all the reporters hustle over to the players. I am always entertained, watching the tall, well made up, usually blonde, reporter-models scurry on the field, getting their almost stripper level high heels caught in the grass and dirt. 

I understand that sport is designed for men and therefore after watching other men bend over and grunt for an hour, well it can cause a great need for reinforced ‘masculinity’. That some people might need to cleanse themselves with some heterosexual-targeted activities, like staring at bleach blonde air heads with big tits. I like women, key word, women. Those creatures struggling to grab the attention of the viewers are not women. They’re like scary robots. 

“So, was the game good?” Clary asks, looking bored. I don’t blame her. She probably doesn’t care much for golf and is only here for experience on her resume. 

“Eh, it was okay…” I answer. It was good, but I could see all the plays before they happened. The technique many players use is unoriginal and just simply technique. There is no flare, nothing that draws you in. I hate players like that, who hit the ball the same way every time. Lucky for me, players like that don’t last long. Golf can be boing as is, your thirst for winning inevitably making you predictable doesn’t help. 

I turn my seat, looking up at the tele in the left corner of the small broadcasting room. The after-game interviews are playing. I always love the interviews. What’s sport without drama? What’s anything without drama, really?

“Hey Sean, can you turn up the tele.” I ask, smirking as the man, well boy, deflates. Simon started three weeks ago, most likely for the same reason clary did, but he is good at what he does nevertheless. When I first met him, everyone had told me his name was Sean. It wasn’t which made me look like a dick, but now it’s sort of a inside joke. Well for me at least. I’m sure that Simon still thinks I don’t know his name.

“Here, do it yourself.” He tosses the remote at me. I catch it and roll my eyes. I press the volume button a couple times, hearing voices boom the speakers.  


The reporter speaks with a thick, thick southern accent and I almost laugh as Alexander’s face contorts in confusion as he carefully tries to figure out what the bloody hell she’s saying.

“How do I feel about the game?” Alexander asks, making sure he had indeed heard her correctly. 

“Good. It was fun.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“So, I’m sure you’ve heard by now but there’s some things going around about you getting very drunk- “Alexander cuts her off, raising his hand. His publicist must be in trying to tell him something because he looks away for a moment, then rolls his eyes.

“I’m not here to talk about drama. So, if you have any more questions that won’t be found in a tabloid magazine then go forth.”

“Do you think he’s going to snap at her?” Clary asks.

“Oh, definitely. He always does.” 

“Um, are we to expect to see your father celebrating with you today?” The woman asks hesitantly. Alexander looks at her for a minute, face hard as a rock. Everybody knows that Alexander and his father haven’t been close since he came out as the first openly gay golfer… ‘tarnishing’ the lightwood name in the golf industry. Yes, yes, alexander lost sponsorships, but they were homophobic pricks anyhow. Not much of a loss if you ask me.

“No.” Alexander answers softly, a playful smile on his lips. “Bitch.” He mutters, removing his mic and storming off. The camera pans to him. He notices that they’re still videoing him and he raises his middle finger. I let out an amused chuckle, crossing my arms. 

“Wow.” Clary comments, getting her things together. 

“Yeah.” I agree, though Alexander being a dick to reporters isn’t new. Alec has an attitude in general. He was nice and quiet but after all the things with his father... he’s not as well. 

“Well, I’m going for drinks with Simon, wanna join?” Clary asks, slinging her bag on. 

“Are you two even old enough to drink?” I raise an eyebrow. Clary’s a small, red headed girl that could easily, easily pass for twelve and Simon looks just as young but that’s because he only wears Star Wars t-shirts. 

“Yeah, we’re twenty three.” Clary scuffs, looking offended. 

“Okay... I accept your offer.” I say, mentally noting to ask Kat, my sister, to pop by and feed chairman meow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	3. Hole Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn next chapter (when Alec isn’t drunk of course)

Clary and Simon lead me to some dark, unsafe looking place that apparently is a club. Pandemonium? Fuck, tonight is going to be long. 

We are ushered into a line, that almost wraps around the whole building. I impatiently cross my arms, thinking of how I could be sitting in bed with a glass of wine and my cat. Shit, I forgot to text Kat. 

I pull out my phone, quickly typing away as Clary, I assume, grabs my arm and pulls me up in line. I finish and put my phone back in my pocket, with my wallet. I’ll have to check to make sure both of them stay in my pocket through out this little endeavour. 

We move up and stop, then move up and stop... on and on for a while. We finally are let in around thirty minutes later. I’m already exhausted and bored though, clary and Simon seemingly have been conversing the whole time. It’s still weird to think I’m only eight years older than them. 

The inside isn’t much different from the outside, dark and mysterious, aka dangerous. There’s lots of people drinking colourful liquids that I can only imagine is alcohol. I could use some alcohol. 

“I’m gonna go to the bar.” I mutter, though neither Clary nor Simon hear me. I slid pass a lot of couples, or strangers, humping each other like wild animals and get to my safe space. Drink, drink. Clink, clink. All my worries will shrink. 

I sit down on the hard stool, leaning my chin on my hand, waiting for the bartender to approach me. She does, eventually. She’s a beautiful, young, black woman with curly hair and a kind smile. 

“Hey. What can I get you?” She asks, grabbing a glass. 

“Vodka.” I answer simply. 

“Funny, he ordered the same thing.” She says pointing to the other side of the room, where none other than Alexander Lightwood is. He’s laying on one of the sofas in a lounge type area. He has his head on some guys lap and his feet on another’s. He’s laughing, sipping his drink whilst all the people around him talk amongst themselves. I felt a small pang of jealousy as one guy ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair, laughing at a joke. 

My mind wonders to which man has, or is, fucking Alec... or which wants to. They all seem so close. Too close. I doubt they like him for anything else than his money and cock but it gets to me... just a tiny bit. 

“Interesting.” I say looking back at.... I squint at her name tag. Maia.

“I’ll go get you that vodka.” She says, leaving me to creep back on Alexander. I look back over at him and instantly look away as he catches my glance. Shit. I keep my eyes focused ahead, to avoid Alec’s gaze. I can’t hear him walking over but I watch his reflection in the glasses in front of me. He saunters over, hanging onto people near as he struggles to keep himself balanced. He’s got a cocky grin on his face. 

He finally plops down on the stool next to me, griping the counter as gravity hits him extra hard, threatening to throw him off the seat. I stifle a laugh. Drunk people are sadly hilarious.

I look from the corner of my eye, seeing that he has propped his head up with his hand, leaning on his elbow. He’s staring at me, chewing on his bright pink lips. Maia comes back, in perfect timing, with my drink. She leaves it in front of me, with a small slice of lime, winking. I blush, downing my drink in one gulp. I cringe. Damn, that was impulsive and dumb.

“You like to drink?” He asks, though his voice is too heavy and slurred to really be understood. I pause, turning. I look at him, looking at me. I forget everything in that moment. Not because it was special or because I’m starstruck... because I’m neither, maybe a bit of the second, but because all the alcohol just hits me hard. I’m reminded that I haven’t eaten anything. 

“Yeah.” I mumble. I know he can’t hear me over the Lady Gaga blaring. I don’t really care, and I can tell from his simply nodding that he doesn’t care that he didn’t hear. I have a feeling his not here to discuss my drinking habits. 

“You have any plans for the rest of the night?” I wish he would stop beating around the bush and just do what he came to do. I know he doesn’t give a shit about my plans. Who would? I’m boring. 

“Nope, you?” I say, dragging the conversation on like a dead horse through the streets. I remind myself that human interaction is a good, healthy thing, and I shouldn’t be annoyed by it being longated by nonsense.

“Hmm, no. Wanna be my plans?” I just stare at him with a blank expression. Is this a joke? 

“I saw you looking...” he explains, leaning closer, placing his hand on my thigh. I don’t mind it, wish he made that decision whilst he was sober... but I don’t mind it. 

“Somebody pointed you out to me.” I see how his face falls a bit at the notion of me not simply being fascinated by him. I am, but I don’t like wearing my heart on my sleeve, so to speak. 

“Oh. You don’t know me?” He asks, looking amazed. I raise my eyebrows. 

“No, I do.” 

“Do you not like me?” I don’t need to ponder that question refute it.

“I’m okay if you don’t, I like... proving myself.” He murmurs, his hand coming closer to the front of my trousers. I want him to continue, but then I remember that he’s drunk and probably high. 

“No need.” I reply, taking his hand off my thigh. He grunts disappointedly. 

“I wanna fuck you.” He drawls out, bluntly. I blink, hiding a smile. My heart pounds in my chest harder than I think it ever has. 

“Ok.” 

“Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, looking confused. 

“Sure.” I answer. I hope that once we get to where ever his flat is, that he’ll just fall asleep and I can leave. I wish that it could be different. I wish that he could be sober and still be interested. Of course, life’s a cruel, cruel bitch. It dangles what it knows you want right in front of you but forces you to cross the line of morality to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	4. Hole Four

I wake, again, not in my bed. I try and move a bit, hoping to go back to sleep. I find that from my waist down, there is a huge weight keeping me locked in place. I scrunch up my face, looking down. I find a very asleep Alexander Lightwood’s head laying a couple centimetres away from my crotch, hand resting on my inner thigh. Right, last night. 

It’s pretty easy to remember, thank god I didn’t have more time to drink the amount of alcohol I originally wanted. We left the club and Alec drunkly directed me to his car, which already had a driver in it. I slid into the back seat, like a normal human opposed to Alec who did a mixture of flinging himself and tripping into the car and falling in my lap. He laughed it off and lazily adjusted himself so that he was sitting correctly next to me. 

“You owe me China because I have no panties.” Alec had giggled manically into my ear. I was so confused but just nodded along. I assumed he didn’t mean to phrase whatever he was trying to say as he did but at the same time I genuinely had no clue what was going on in that pretty, little head of his. 

We went back to his flat, which is only a flat because it’s in a building with other flats. If it was on its own, with the size of it, it could be considered a house. Besides the size, it’s neatly decorated with deep green-accents and a very modern lay out. Not, that I got to look around much. Within a second or two his face was being smashed into mine and his hands were grabbing at whatever they could find. I’m sure he’s a much more coordinated lover when his sober... but last night he was the equivalent of a horny teenager trying to loose his virginity as fast as possible. 

We went to his bed, correction I carried him to his bed. He had already wrapped his legs around me and was much too busy shoving his tongue down my throat to really walk. I ended up falling onto the bed, back first. I moved up the bed, laying my head on one of his many pillows that where fifty shades of green, and he sluggishly followed. I think he was going to try to blow me and jerk off as he did, because he fell asleep half way into unbuttoning my trousers and removing his. It looks a bit humorous now, seeing his pale buttocks exposed and my zipper drowning in his drool. I don’t know why I hadn’t just moved his body off mine and left... that would’ve been smart. 

I try to shift again, failing to move but causing Alexander to stir as well. He rubs his head against the front of my trousers, which doesn’t help the huge boner that’s trapped in them. I bite on my nail, feeling a great need to either push Alexander off and rub one out or wake the other man up and persuade him into blowing me. I shutter at the imagine of his bright red lips wrapping around my cock and his brilliant blue eyes focusing on me. God, I could cum just thinking about it. I should stop thinking about it. 

“Alexander...” I try, pushing his head a bit. He only grips my thigh harder, pressing his face so close yet so far from where my penis lays underneath my trousers. Fuck, fuckity fuck. It finally dawns on me that I haven’t jerked off in three days and that realisation is hard to live with. I need to touch my dick now. 

“Are you wake? You’re really fucking me up right now...” I whisper, though I feel more like screaming. Why did I not jerk off before... it seems like such a good idea now I can’t imagine any time when it wouldn’t be. 

“Hmmm.” He hums on my crotch, lifting his hips a bit and raising his arse in the air. Oh Jesus Christ.

“Wake up.” I raise my voice, then I clear it adding a more softer ‘please’. He probably has a hangover... I shouldn’t yell. 

“Who-are you?” He coughs, looking up at me with his normally bright crystal eyes gazed over in confusion. As I look at him, maybe it’s the horniness but, it finally sinks in that I am indeed in his bed. He indeed tried to fuck me. Him, trying to fuck me. Never thought it could happen... 

“Um, you took me here, from the club.” It jogs his memory, his expression clearing. 

“Oh.” He draws out, less than excited. “Right. Did we fuck or did I throw up on you before we could?” He asks, coughing again and rolling away from me. I pause before responding. My first question is, does he throw up on people often? 

This guy isn’t my hero, or anything of the sort, but seeming him as up close and personal as I have is eye opening. He seems so put together, so perfect. Now, he’s asking me if he threw up on me whilst pulling up his pants. I can’t tell which version I prefer. 

“No, no. You were going to... preform oral sex but passed out.” He nods slowly, mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He mumbles, wiping his mouth. For a second, I think he’s going to get up and go somewhere but he just rolls back over and starts undoing the zipper of my trousers. I want to ask him what he’s doing, but at the same time I want his mouth doing other things than talking. 

“Fuck me. You’re really hard.” He giggles, like a school child, palming my cock through my underwear. Yes, yes, Alexander. I am very hard. He pulls me out, causing a shiver to run down my spin. I don’t think I’ve had a blow job in a long time. I let my hands rest at my sides, in hopes to not reach out a grab his head. 

“You’re big...” he whispers to himself, seemingly surprised.

“What, you think Asian people have small penises?” I scuff playfully. His face reddens. I see a look that I don’t think anyone has ever seen on the great Alec Lightwood’s face, embarrassment. I let out a chuckle. 

“No.” He answers, avoiding my eyes. I raise my eyebrows a bit. 

“I’ve been with some really... well endowed Asian men...” 

“Ok. Well, now you’re with another one so...” I encourage him to get to business, nodding towards his hands. I close my eyes as I feel his mouth on me. It’s warm, inviting and very, very experienced. I try not to think about Alexander’s comment but I inevitably do. I can’t stop the images of other men touching, kissing Alec. I don’t like it.

My eyes open as he chokes, pulls up and coughs. 

“Sorry.” He apologises. I nonverbally let him know it’s alright, nodding my head. He gives me a shy smile and continues. I let my hands travel through his thick, black hair. He swallows all of me, causing me to grip him tightly. He groans, struggling to breath through his nose. I let go. I don’t want to cause him pain. He pulls up, sucking on my head and staring into my soul. I freeze, looking into his eyes. I feel my orgasm start but Alexander notices before me, pulling off and jerking me off instead. I cum all over my shirt and his hand. Great. 

“I don’t swallow.” He explains, clearing his throat. He wipes his hand on his pants then gropes my thighs, were my trousers are pulled down to. He’s feeling at my pockets. 

“What-“

“Where’s your phone?” He cuts me off, sitting up on my lap. I awkwardly reach around and pull it out of my pocket. I hand it over to him without a thought. He snatches it from me, taping the screen. 

“Password?” He asks, though it comes out more like a command. I shouldn’t give him it but I do. 

“2356.” 

He nods, unlocking my phone. He raises an eyebrow, scrolling through something. He continues to tap on my phone, doing god knows what and I let him. I don’t know why but I don’t feel the need to object. 

“There.” He sighs, tossing my phone on my chest. Brat. “Now you have my number.” He hops off me, walking out of the room. What the hell?

I lay there for a second, thinking over everything. I look back at my flaccid penis. I put it back in my trousers, zipping them up. I take a breath and get up. I walk out of his room, trying to rub the cum out of my shirt as I go. Damn, good thing it’s not my favourite. 

I see him in the kitchen, getting things from the fridge. What’s happening? What should I do, say? He doesn’t notice me, placing a container of yogurt on the counter of his kitchen bar. He peels off the lid, finally looking at me as he licked the extra white, thick yogurt off it. I want to scuff but I’m frozen in place. 

“Oh, you can leave. I’ll call you later.” He says. I stare at him and he stares back at me. I wrap my arms around myself and nod. I walk towards the door then look back. He goes back to eating his yogurt. Ok. I shake my head and leave. Wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	5. Hole Five

I’m asleep when my phone rings; asleep in the way where I’m drooling and don’t want to wake up. I’m dreaming about god knows what when I snap awake. I don’t remember my dream but I’m sure it was pretty fucking amazing since all I want is to go back to it. I squint in the darkness, looking over the ray of light coming from my phone. I grab it, seeing that Alec is calling me.

It’s been three months since I last saw him. I had waited, almost desperately, for him to text me the first two weeks. He didn’t text me until a month had gone by and it wasn’t a ‘hey’ or ‘hi’ or even ‘sorry for blowing you and never talking to you after.’ It was a text ordering me to take a STD test. I had been offended, at first, then I did as commanded. 

Now, another month later, I still have the papers showing my perfectly STD free body on the top of my nightstand next to my lamp. It will stay there forever since I already sent him pictures of it, not that he seemed to care. I feel like an idiot.

I roll my eyes, pressing answer. 

“Mark!” Alec greets from the other end, singing a name that is most definitely not mine at the top of his lungs. I can’t hear any music or noises in the back so I deduce he’s alone and probably drunk. 

“Magnus.” I correct and I hear him sigh on the other end. 

“Right, right. Magnus. I knew that.”He pauses, and there’s a small‘tap’ noise in the background.“Hey, I just had the weirdest dream?” 

“Ok?” I say hazily.

“I had a dream that was at a party, okay? And I was wearing my favourite pair of trousers. Like holy fuck do, I love these trousers. Okay? So then, I take this guy up to one of the rooms... and he fucking shits all over them. Like it was kinda blurry because dream and all that but there was definitely shit all over my trousers. Okay?” Tap.

“Ok?” 

“So I threw them out the window. Then I wake up and search for my pants... and they’re completely fine. I was so fucking happy oh my god.” Tap, Tap.

“Ok?”

“Yeah, So do you want to come over?”

I look at my phone. The bright screen displays 4:30. “It’s really late.” Or early. 

“Oh shit, I haven’t checked the time.” He says and there’s another ‘tap’ sound. The hell is he doing? “So is that a yes or...” 

“What will we being doing?” I ask, running my hand through my messy hair.

“Hm. Well at the moment I’m playing mini golf in my living room and drinking wine... so we could do that. But, I’m in my boxers right now and I don’t want to be self-conscious” as if that could ever happen, I mutter in my head. “So you’d have to get in your boxers as well.” 

“Then, maybe after a couple of rounds, I would bring you to my bedroom and fucking you? Possibly?” 

“Uh...um.”I hesitate. I know I should say no. He waited two months... I’m not going to risk looking desperate just to... get laid. Am I? I ponder over the last two months. I was left to jerk off through them, much like rest of my life. Am I willing to trade my decorum for an orgasm? 

“Sure.” I say finally. Apparently, yeah. 

“Good, great. See you.”He cheers then hangs up.

*****

I stand at his door, ring the door bell and wrap my arms around myself as I wait. I’m dressed nicely. Thin black jumper with matching trousers. I even put in my many ear piercing that I retired from daily use because of my job. The words of my boss, Gary, were ‘if you want to look like an emo twelve year old, then go work at Hot Topic’ as I recall. 

He opens the door, smiling ear from ear. I smile back shyly and he lets me in. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk in. I’m wearing the right outfit; it hugs everything it needs to. 

I look back at him and realise he was completely serious about being in his boxers, playing mini golf whilst drinking. Though, I don’t believe he was only drinking. 

“So, let's see how good your golf game is.” He grins, eyes trailing towards my clothes which I suppose he expects me to take off. I set my phone on the glass coffee table in his living room. As I do, he pulls out his and puts on some music. I can’t help my laughing. He laughs too. I slowly pull my shirt over my head, which I had only put on thirty minutes earlier. 

As I pull down my pants, PILLOWTALK by Zayn plays and I really can’t stop myself from laughing.

He hands me a club. It’s the first one I’ve ever held one. I talk about golf all the time, but I haven’t played... ever. I stare at it for a bit. I know the logistics of the sport... the maths but I don’t think any of that will help me now. 

“You need help?” 

“I’ve never played.” I blush, swinging the club back in forth at my side. Alexander lookes astonished. 

“So, you’re a golf virgin?” He chuckles, tilting his head. 

“Yeah.” I laugh nervously. He pats my back and comes behind me. 

“So, golf is pretty easy. See the ball, yeah. Hit it. Don’t over think it. Just feel it, you know?” I smile and nod, though I don’t know. The only thing I can feel is his boner lightly touching my butt. 

“Okay...” I hit the ball, watching it go down the little course Alexander had set up. It rolls for a couple of seconds, stoping far from the hole. So much for just feeling it. 

“That’s good! A lot better than some professionals.” He scuffed at the word professionals. 

“Thanks.” 

*****

We play mini golf for a while, Alec guiding me through every swing. I think we consume two bottles of wine as we go, giggling towards the end as we both have a hard time standing straight. 

I trip as I go for the wine bottle on the coffee table, my giraffe legs betraying me. Alexander catches me, grabbing me by the waist. I balance myself, then reach down for the wine. I shakily pour myself another glass, leaning on Alec. I put the bottle down and take a gulp from my refilled glass. He giggles into my neck, making me choke on my wine. 

“You like the wine?” He chuckles, letting go of me only to grab back on as I have a difficult time standing on my own. 

“Oh yeah, it tastes fantastic.” I slur, finishing off my glass... again. 

“Hm, that’s enough.” He whispers, taking my glass away. I go to grab it back but I give up half way through the endeavour. 

“You ready to have some fun?”

“Pfff. Now that you’ve gotten me drunk?” I roll my eyes, slipping away from his grip. I make it a couple steps, then fall on the near by couch. 

“You’re couch is fucking uncomfortable.” I grumble, curling up. My hand finds it’s way to the front of by super man boxers shamelessly. 

“Well it is for decoration.” 

“Wow. A piece of furniture that isn’t used as a piece of furniture... how practical.” 

“You’re a bitchy drunk.”

“Yeah and you’re a slutty drunk.” 

He rolls his eyes with a wide grin, falling onto the sofa with my hand still trapped on my crotch as he rolls on top of me. 

“It’s like the blue people... oh fuck what’s their names...” 

“Oh-uh! Schmarps? Schmarfs?” 

“No... no.” He groans, rolling his hips. 

“Oompa loompas? The guys from Dorthy and the small people movie?” 

“Nah, they’re blue... have their own talents as their names...” 

“The power rangers?” 

“No... Shmurfs! Those fuckers!”

“Oh.” I pull my hand out, hitting myself in the face. Ow. 

“Yeah, Yeah... so like we’re the drunk shmurfs.”

“That was a lot of work for a shitty analogy.” 

“Yeah.” He rests his head on my chest. I look down at him, creating an unflattering double chin. 

“You have pretty eyes.” He complements. “They’re like brown but like honey brown.” 

“You don’t have to complement me... I literally have already got you between my legs.”

“I was being sincere.” He frowns. 

“And yeah, pretty hard to forget. If you haven’t noticed I’ve been humping you.” 

“Really?” I give a fake look of shock. “I genuinely couldn’t tell. You must be small.” 

“I am not.” He slides up and grabs the hand that was laying above my head. He puts it back in between us, under his underwear. I feel him shiver on me as my cold fingers lightly touch his length.

“I’ve... had bigger.” I smirk. He gives me a look that lets me know that he wasn’t going to let that one slide so easily. 

“Oh, really?” He raises an eyebrow, letting go of me. I don’t let go of him, still gently stroking him. 

“Umhm.” 

“You wouldn’t mind... if I just...” He doesn’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. My underwear is pulled down and I understand what he’s getting at. I lift my hips, trying to help slide it down. At some point we realise that to fully take them off, he’d have to move... that isn’t going to happen. So, he just rips it off. It takes a couple of tries on his part, but he does, eventually, pull hard enough to get the material to split in two. 

“You have lube?” I ask nervously. 

“No.” He furrowes his eyebrows. I left out a long sigh. All I want is for him to hurry up and fuck me. 

“Here.” He brings his hand to my mouth. At first I back away. I don’t know where his hands have been. 

“Come on baby, suck.” He encourages in the best porn voice I’ve ever heard. He slips two fingers in my mouth and I choke, spit trickling down my chin. How cute. 

“Easy there.” He chuckles, pushing his finger deeper in my mouth. At some point we both understand how weird the moment is and he pulls his fingers out and brings them down to my rear. He pushes both in, causing me to let out a noise that’s similar to the sound chairmen meow makes when I accidentally step on his tail. 

“Fuck, you’re tighter than I thought.” He mumbles, slowly pushing his fingers in and out as I melt below him. 

“Yeah...” I close my eyes, arching my back. I feel his fingers start to jab into me viscously and I snap my attention back at him. 

“Pay attention.” He grumbles. 

“I am, Jesus.” 

“Can I put my cock in now?” He sighs, looking bored. 

“Yeah, sure.” He shuffles out his dick from his own plain black underwear. I run my hand through his hair aimlessly as I wait for him to push in. 

“You ready?” I mutter out a ‘yes’ and he pushes in. It feels like a small fire was started in my ass. It burns... really bad. I cringe as he instantly bottoms out. 

“You like that?” He groans, pushing out and slamming back in. My fingers curl up in his hair as I contain a whimper. 

“You like that big cock?” 

“Oh dear god shut up.” I cry. He laughs, rolling his hips. His cock hits my prostate perfectly. My toes curl up and I push back on him. 

“Yeah, Yeah... Right there.” I moan like a whore. 

“Right here.” He moves again and I let out a loud, loud groan. 

“Umhm. Yeah, do it again.” He does, over and over and over. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so good.” 

“Faster, faster.” I pant.

“Demanding are we? What’s the magic words?” 

“Please... fuck me faster.” 

“You’re missing a word... still.” I give him a confused look. 

“Starts with a d-“ 

“Daddy?” I ask.

“Fuck yeah, now put all together.” 

“Fuck me faster...” I force the last word out through my teeth as he already answers my request. “Daddy.”

I whisper the word over and over under my breath as he digs his nails into my sides and fucks into me erratically. I feel a warm sensation and his motions slow. His gets a couple last thrust in, before collapsing on top of me. 

He smiles at me and gives me a peck on the cheek. I’m about to complain about not coming but he’s already two steps ahead. He grabs my cock, aggressively jerking it, focusing on the head more than going all the way down on my shaft. After a minute, I cum all over myself with his flaccid member still inside of me. 

I want to get up, clean all the semen off and out of me but I just close me eyes. I relax, feeling the two red bull I drank before wearing off. Alexander is already snoring on my chest. I feel so open, with his dick still in me and makes it harder to fall asleep. I wiggle a bit, but it just causes his member to rub on my sensitive spot. I sigh, giving up and go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	6. Hole Six

I wake in a bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and drowning in white sheets. I nestle my head further into the covers, biting the inside of my cheek as I feel the warm. It’s so warm, like sunlight hitting my face but for my whole body. 

My legs move around under the sheets, finding cold matches where the soft blanket stops and the cool sheets begin. I recline by leg back to the warm, but then tease at the cold patch. The sensation was similar to when I had been dared to jump back in forth between a pool and a hot tub by my friend Ragnor. 

I open my eyes, just a little, finding myself in Alexander’s room. I furrow my eyebrows and shallow back a yawn. I realise under the sheets I’m completely naked. What a day and night difference from last time. 

Where’s Alexander?

Is the first fluid thought that runs through my foggy head, that and what I’m going to eat. My stomach growls as I sit up, keeping the blanket pulled up to my shoulders. 

I slide out of bed after I look around and declare myself the sole person present. Did he just run off? From his own home?

I walk down the small hallway that connects his bedroom and what I assume to be a guest bedroom to the parlour and kitchen, shuttering at the touch of the cold hard wood flooring. 

It’s so cold. I want to go back to the bed, but I’m already up. I look around the parlour and the kitchen, finding nothing but a note taped to the fridge. 

“Had practise, see you in an hour. There’s left over Chinese food in the fridge.” I read. I take the note off and fling it on the counter. Chinese food sounds more than good. 

I pull out a bottle of sparkling water and some vegetable lo mein. I waste no time, grabbing a fork from one of the many drawers and digging in. I get half way finished before before I realise that I hadn’t heat the food up. I shrug my shoulders. 

I put the left overs of the left over back in the fridge and open the sparkling water. The weird lemony taste makes me cringe but I drink it anyways because it will be the only fancy thing to touch my taste buds, ever. 

I wonder around the parlour, sipping my rich people water. I let the blanket fall from my body, strolling around absou-bloody-lutely naked. It feels freeing. 

*****

Alec returns at the wrong time. I’m sitting on the couch, watching Netflix on my phone, seemingly innocently. Though, I’m wearing one of his dressy button up shirts I found in his closet, among other things. 

“Are you wearing my shirt?” He asks amusedly. I nod, keeping my attention on the gossip girl episode I’m watching. Fuck, I’d die for a lifetime supply of gossip girl. 

“Interesting.” 

“How was practise?” 

“Fine. My trainer is kinda a dick but he makes a good-“ 

“I found a shit ton of sex toys in your closet.” I interrupt. I don’t meet his gaze but I can see him shrug from the corner of my eye. 

“What? When you were trying on my clothes?” 

“Why did you keep me here? Like you could’ve just been like ‘hey I’m at golf practise, see you never!’.” I say, putting my phone down as the credits of the episode roll on the screen. 

“Who would I have to fuck if you went home?” 

“Wow...arrogance alert...” I scuff, though I don’t really have much of a problem with his ego. It’s all talk anyhow. 

“So.” He starts, sitting down on the couch next to me. “You find anything that interests you?” 

“Where? Here? No.” I joke playfully. Alexander’s face turns stern but I know it isn’t real. I’ve seen him when he’s actually pissed off, thanks to new anchors and reporters everywhere, and this look wasn’t it. His eyes are too playful. 

“You better watch it.” He purrs. 

“Or what?” I challenge with a raised eyebrow. I have to stop myself from laughing. This situation is that of a porn video. And yes, I would know. 

He grabs me by the collar, pulling me closer so that our faces are a couple centimetres away from each other. 

He doesn’t kiss me, which sadly was what I was hoping for like the fourteen year old girl I secretly am. Instead he does something much, much more romantic. He drags me into his lap and gropes my arse. 

“It’s real.” I state, causing a small chuckle from him. 

“I would have never guessed!” He returns sarcastically, spanking my butt and grabbing at it again. It feels as awkward as it sounds but it’s also oddly hot. Honestly Alexander could make macro-waving pancakes seem hot...

“You’re hard.” I state, filling the awkward silence that followed our banter. I couldn’t stand just sitting, on him, arms around his neck and just look. I need movement... of any kind. Silence... makes me start to rethink my life and that’s the last thing I need. 

“Yeah. My trainer wore the tightest pair of pants today. Like, you could see everything. It took everything in me not to-“ 

“You’re trainer sounds like a slut.” It slips out of my mouth. It don’t let myself become embarrassed. It’s true. If you know you’re going to train a hot gay golfer... and wear skin tight pants, well, you’re looking to get something in a hole. 

“Oh He is. He bent over and picked up all the balls-“ 

“With his butt?” 

“No!” Alexander laughs, causing me to jiggle a bit on top of him. “No, no. But he didn’t make sure his tight ass was on display for me to see.” 

“Wow. Did you fuck him?” I ask, nonchalantly as if asking about weather. I pick at the seem of his polo shirt as I await an answer. 

“No. I don’t mean to be cheesy... but I was think about you the whole time.” 

“Wow. I think I’m lactose intolerant now... that’s how cheesy that was.” 

“I know, I know. I mean I just kept on thinking about tying you to my bed, all spread out for me to use-“ 

“Well, you’ve just moulded the cheese.” 

“Hm... as I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted.” He gave me a quick glare then went back to his train of thought. “I would have you all open for me... and I’d tease you-“ his hands travel from my butt to the rest of my body, more specifically my thighs. “Until you were begging me to fuck you. Then I’d make you ride me-“ 

I wiggle on his lap, grinding my butt against his crotch. His grip on my thighs tightens. 

“Seems like you’re already desperate.” He whispers. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” I bite my lip for effect and press my forehead to his and I grind harder. I wasn’t exactly in the mood when he came, but I definitely am now. 

“You want me to-“ before he could finish his sentence, his front door bursts open. A incredibly attractive black haired woman stands in the door way. She looks like she’s about to say something but closes her mouth as the site of Alexander and I. 

“Fucking hell Izzy!” Alec yells, pushing me off his lap roughly. I quickly pull the shirt down so my genitals are covered and close my legs. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	7. Hole Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Como stai, mami? Sì, sì. Lo so... sì, eu sono con Alexander. Ok. Arrivederci, mami! - How are you mommy? Yes, yes... I know... yes, I’m with Alexander. Okay. See you soon, mommy!  
> Mi fa piacere vederti, mama! - I’m so glad to see you mom!  
> Che peccato- what a pity  
> Okay, ti voglio bene, mamma- I love you mom!
> 
>  
> 
> I don’t speak Italian so I hope, that I’ve said these correct.

I sit awkwardly, curled up on a ball on the sofa as I watch the two siblings in front of me bicker.

“Jesus, Izzy, there’s a thing called privacy.” 

“I wouldn’t have stormed in if it wasn’t important. Anyways, since when have you liked twinks?” She scuffs as she catches me out of the corner of her eye. I enlarged my eyes and look around the flat, assuming she was referring to some other person... because I am not a twink. Not, that’s it’s a bad thing, to be a twink. I’m just not. 

“He’s not a twink. If you’re gonna use gay slang, at least get it right.” 

“That’s a hate crime!” Alexander exclaims sarcastically as his sister rolls her eyes.

“Look, mum coming back from Italy.” 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Yep. Jace is at the airport right now, picking her up.” 

“Shit, shit. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Alec grumbles, rubbing his hands over his face. He gives a quick and fleeting worried glance towards me then looks back at his sister.

“Mum’s planing on staying with you, so you better get out the Virgin Mary candles and crosses.” 

“Why can’t she stay with you?” Alec whines like a child, letting out a displeased grunt as he thinks over the next week or so that his mother will be in town for. 

“Because I live with my boyfriend, Meliron, remember him? And mum hates how-“

“Hindu he is, I know.” Alec pauses before saying anything else. Then his lips curl into a twisted smile as he looks at me.

“But mark-“ 

“Magnus.” I correct.

“Yes, Magnus... is staying with me-“

“I am?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, of course. So she won’t want to stay here.” 

“Because...” Isabella questions.

“You know mum hates Asians after that one time... remember...”

“Oh yeah, that market man accused her of stealing his cabbage when we visited China.” 

Alec snapped his fingers, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“I’m Indonesian.” I say. 

“Same thing.” Alec waves off my comment, then realises how racist he sounded and quickly tries to redeem himself.

“To my mum... it’s the same thing to my mum.” 

“Speaking of the devil.” Izzy sighs, pulling her ringing phone from her pocket. 

“Como stai, mami? Sì, sì. Lo so... sì, eu sono con Alexander. Ok. Arrivederci, mami!” 

“What’d she say?” 

“She asked if I knew that she was coming, because I didn’t call her and wish her a safe flight... and she asked if I had told you, where you are... blah, blah.” 

“Shit, did she say how far away she was?” 

“No, but it sounded as though she was in a car so, she’s gotta be close.” 

“Fuck.” Alec turned to me, cringing at my half naked body.

“Go get dressed, something nice too... oh and take out the piercings... mum would shit her herself if she- no, keep them. Keep them.” 

I nodd, getting up and making my way back to the bedroom. I feel slightly exhausted, though I hadn’t done much. I go back to the vast closet area. It’s like a whole room on its own. 

It has a small table and some chairs in the centre, in case you want to quit getting dressed and sip tea... because that’s a thing people do. The rest of the room is spot less except for the walls being covers in drawers and racks of clothes, jewellery and shoes. I wonder how nobody had outed Alexander years ago... it would only take one look in his closet. 

I walk around, starting with the shirts and making my way to the trousers. He doesn’t have many colour options. It’s mostly black, greys and deep blues. I find a shirt I like and pull it off the rack, laying it on the table in the centre. Guess it does have actually use. 

I ponder on the trousers. Alexander isn’t much taller than me, and we’re both the same width. He might have a longer torso... and like arms... and legs. He’s like a goddamn prey-mantis.

I find some black jeans and decide to roll them up at the ends. I put on the outfit, not bothering with underwear. 

I stroll out of the bedroom, looking for my ankle boots, which would tie everything together. 

“Wow.” Alexander comments as I walk into the room. 

“You look amazing...” 

“Well, thank you.” I blush, finding my boots by the door. 

“Once we scare my mum off to staying with my brother, I’m gonna rip that off of you and-“ he starts in a hushed, husky voice. 

“Why rip them? Like I could just take them off, seems much more productive to me. It seem like the shirt and stuff was expensive, like I don’t know much about fashion but fuck I’m sure I’m wearing more than a thousand dollars right now.” 

“Oh my god Magnus, you’re too cute.” He got my name right, finally.

“Thanks?” 

“Shit, Alec she’s a couple minutes away!!” 

*****

His mum isn’t that scary. She’s a tall, muscular seeming, tan dark haired woman who looks to have a frown tattooed to her face. She’s well dressed, and currently is looking around the flat with sharp eyes. Eyes that I wouldn’t want on me. 

“Mi fa piacere vederti, mama.” Alexander says in effortless Italian that makes me fill out his jeans very quickly. 

Shit, are they going to be speaking Italian the whole time?

“Hm.” She murmurs, still looking around. She doesn’t smile when she sees the candles or crosses, or even the Latin bible laying causally in the parlour’s coffee table. She doesn’t frown at them either. It’s a weird, serious Mona Lisa smile that gives you chills. 

“Who’s this?” She says in accent-less English. I assume she’s referring to me, so I go to answer. I see Alexander shake his head from the corner of my eye and close my mouth. 

“Is he your butler?” She asks, looking down at me... literally because she’s taller. Gosh, is every lightwood a freaking giant? 

“No. He’s my- we’re dating mama.” Alexander stumbles, blushing. I internally roll my eyes as I hear his statement. I honestly am more like a sexual butler than a boyfriend. 

“Che peccato.” She murmurs, walking away, towards the stairs. Huh, there’s stairs... I never noticed that. 

“I’ll go make myself comfortable since no one else is bothered to ask, Jace will bring up my bags.” She grumbles in a high, elegant voice. She makes whining sound so angelic. 

“Okay, ti voglio bene, mamma!” Alexander calls out and is given no response. 

“Fuck, we need to up the weird. Ummmm, Oh! She should catch us- having relations... that would scare her away.” 

“I’m not having sex in front of your mum.” I never thought I would ever have to say that sentence. 

“Alec, calm down. She’ll only be her a week, three at most. Relax.” 

“A week?” He squeaked, enlarging his eyes. 

“Oh don’t be a drama king.” Izzy said, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, I gotta go, enjoy mum!” 

“Fuck you!” Alec calls out as she heads toward the door. 

“Fuck you too big brother!” She says, flipping him off. She pauses as she gets to the door. “Oh, Wait... you can’t, unless you want to taint the poor Virgin Mary’s eyes.” She smirked, slamming the door behind her.


	8. Hole Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being mia for a while... next chapter will have smut and I promise not to take two months to write it haha... *clears throat* also #saveshadowhunters  
> Enjoy!

When I was young, maybe until I was around seven, I lived with my mother in Brooklyn. I lived there in the real Brooklyn before all the beanie wearing, coat tied around the waist and yet another one's on your shoulders, Starbucks snorting folk came along. In the Brooklyn where you could walk down the street in the middle of the afternoon and see a frantic, seemingly homeless man argue with himself about how high the prices of heroine were getting. And yet, though I'm not in Brooklyn, there are no homeless men around, I can still feel the same Brooklyn vibe. The get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way-or-I'll-make-you vibe.

It doesn't feel refreshing... 

Alec scurrying around his kitchen like a squirrel on coke with the same crazy homeless guy look in his eyes quite frankly makes me want to shit myself. I think maybe because the only times I have even slightly witnessed the great Mr. Lightwood in distress, he's either been drunk or I've been a mile away in a booth as a commentator not an actually party involved. I think that his suave persona, that always had a pinch of egotistical dick head in it, is fading as much as my sobriety as I gulp down one glass of wine after another. Its like a fun game; take a sip every-time Alexander whispers 'I want to die' under his breath. I'm sure I'd be more than black out drunk if I were to play that game seriously. 

"Why don't you just order take out and say you made it?" I say, cutting myself of with a burp mid sentence. Alexander looks up from whatever the fuck he has boiling on the stove and glares at me. Guess my suggestion wasn't helpful.

"My mother is an Italian woman. Like an actual one, not the ones that dine at Olive Garden every week and complain the pasta isn't authentic. She'd know." He goes back to stirring. He brings his spatula up, tapping it on the edge of the pot and taking a quick taste, after a couple stirs. He scrunches up his face.

"Um, can you run to the nearest 'authentic' Italian restaurant you can find?" He says after spitting his 'sauce' up into the sink. 

"Um..." 

He turns around three times, like a dog chasing its tail, finally locating his jacket on one of the kitchen bar stools. 

"Here." He says, digging out his credit card and handing it to me. "Get an uber or something and go get the food. I'll clean up the mess. I know my mama is sleeping right now but she'll be close to waking probably by the time you get back, so uh hurry and don't make noise when you come in." He rambled, turning the sink faucets on and turning off the stove. 

"Roger.... That. Cap'tain" I stumble over my words, feeling a head ache start. Fuck.

"On second thought, maybe-let's just postmate it." Alec quickly comes to my side, grabbing his car that is loosely in my hand. "Why don't you lay down for a bit?" 

I give him a funny look. "I'm even drunk not." 

He lets out a small giggle. "Jesus, and I thought I drank too much. Serious, the small time I've spent with you mark, I'm pretty sure you've drank more than your weight."

I feel his hand on the small of my back, slowly pushing me to walk with him to the sofa in the living room. Ugh, I fucking loath that sofa. 

"Please." I sang annoyingly to start my defense. "The night I met you, you were fucking wasted."

"I was having a bad day." He grunts, giving up on redirecting me and full on picks me up.

"What if... I'm having a bad day?" He lays me on the sofa that must've been constructed in the Stone Age from freaking rocks.

"Oh, you can't be. You're with me after all." He jokes, ruffling my hair like a child... Or dog.

I expect him to leave, to go clean the kitchen but he plops down, moving my feet so that they are laying on his lap. He pulls out his phone, nodding his head along to some beat only he can hear. I watch him, but then get bored. I rest my head on the weird rectangular pillow that is obviously just for decor, like everything else in this damn flat, and drift off. 

I wake, what seems like a couple minutes later, and Alexander is no longer on the sofa. Probably got too uncomfortable to sit on for him. Oh, fuck, my back is going to be killing me for the next week. I hate being old.

"Hey, you're awake!" Alec says. I assume he's the huge blob approaching me and I blink to clear my vision. Now he looks less blobby. Good. 

"How long was I asleep for?" My head ache’s gone...

His face goes very solemn as he shakes his head. "Two days..." 

My eyes must look like why we're going to pop out of my head because he starts laughing. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you. You slept for three hours. The food arrived about thirty minutes ago." 

"Oh." That's still a long time. It felt like nothing.

"Feeling refreshed?"

“Mostly just hungry.”

*****

Dinner is awkward. Not the ‘oh she doesn’t like me and it’s obvious awkward’. No, the ‘she thinks I’m literal cancer to her son and won’t even entertain the idea that I’m a human being awkward’.

She will glance at me, with the eyes of a venomous snake, as if I’m a piece of ugly furniture in Alexander’s flat. And all that would be nice and dandy if said Mr. Lightwood didn’t have his hand a centimetre or so from my crotch. That makes it hard to hear the conversation and eat my lasagne. I get bits and pieces but inevitably Alec will twitch his hand and I’m out of focus again. 

When I can comprehend what is going on, I instantly feel fine with the idea of not being about to pay attention to Mrs. Lightwoods rants or ‘suggestion’. 

“You should give Lydia Branwell a chance. She the best female golfer around and her old artist husband died so she’s completely free!” 

“Just because your old instructor was a little too playful at times doesn’t mean you’re gay.” 

“You can’t just bring some Vietnamese lady boy to your flat! There’s paparazzi everywhere!” 

“I’m Indonesian, actually.” I chime in, getting a rough squeeze to my dick from Alec. “Not, uh, Vietnamese.” 

She gives me killer glare then returns back to scolding Alec for many of other things he had ‘fucked up’ on. 

I quietly moved my lasagne around my plate, both enjoying and hating the sound of my fork scraping against the glass plate. I start eating again, after the conversation dies down; both Alexander and his mother downing their wine and rolling their eyes when the other isn’t looking. It kinda scares me how they are like the same person. Both of them are irrational assholes, just about different things. 

By the time I have a small sliver left on my plate, Alexander finally has moved his hand down to my upper knee. I shift more comfortably. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. 

“I’m going to bed.” Maryse grunts eventually. She throws her serviette, which probably cost more than my closet full of clothing combined, on her plate and sighs as she stomps up stairs. 

Alec sits back, closing his eyes. He didn’t eat much but who could when they’re being berated. 

“Wow.” I whisper, slipping my water. 

“Yeah.” He scuffs. “Wow is correct.” 

“So, um I should be getting home.” I say, remembering I’ve left my chairmen meow alone for too long. 

“You don’t have to...” 

“My cat...” I start, not realising how pathetic it sounds. Oh no sorry man who is incredibly out of my league, I can’t stay and have sex with you... my cat awaits. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. 

“Bring it here.” 

“Here... yeah well I’ll have to go home at some point. I have work tomorrow.” Stop talking, damn it. Just accept. 

“I mean, I have a match tomorrow as well. We can just met up back here...” 

I narrow my eyes. “What, you want me to move in or something?” I seriously need to shut up. 

“If you want.” He smiles then gets flustered. “Not in like a dating way.” 

“No of course not, just invite me to stay at your place. That doesn’t have any implications at all.” 

“No, no. I don’t- I’m not looking to date.” 

“Uhuh, yeah got it.” I fold my arms across my chest, rolling my eyes.

“We can like- like fuck... watch movies and maybe like um play mini golf in my living-room. That was fun.” 

“Hm. Okay, I’m in. I’d love to have sex with you and simultaneously also have the platonic relationship you mentioned with the two not being, um, combined.” 

“Yes! Okay, cool.” 

“I’m not moving in though.” 

“Fuck why not?” He looks genuinely glum. That’s a curveball. 

“Because I’ve been around you for a total three-ish days.” 

“That’s fair.” He looks down, playing with the serviette in his lap. He twirls the cloth around his pointer finger like a child, biting his lip. 

“Do you still maybe wanna have sex?” 

“Oh hell yeah.” I cheer, watching his face instantly getting brighter. It makes me feel happier in a way, to see him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	9. Hole Nine

You know what I hate more than anything? People who fake curse. People who say darn, dang, frick, and freak; not because they have kids around or are in polite company. They say that just because they think it’s somehow better than saying fuck or damnit. 

I hate that. I hate how stingy it is. If I’m upset I say fuck, shit, damn. I’m not a prude; I won’t gasp or giggle at those words. 

And I’m the same way with sex. If I want to have sex with someone, then I will. I’m not a “three dates two phone calls and you can jerk me off in the back of your car” kind of guy. If I like you, and you like me, then we can fuck no matter how long we’ve known each other. 

“Oh come on are you serious?” Alexander says, a huge grin on his face and an... object in his hands. I wanted to lightly stabbed the sparkle out of his damn convincing blue eyes.

“Never? Really?” He asks in a taunting manner. I can’t help but roll my eyes. 

“No. I have never used that... thing.” I've never needed to. Why have the knock off when you can get the real thing? Not that I get the real thing often. 

“Oh just say the word. Vibrator.” I cringe as the word leaves his lips. Ugh it just sounds like the feeling of someone pouring acid in my ear. 

“I didn’t take you for a-“ 

“I’m not a prude. I just... prefer the real thing.” 

“Huh, so you’re telling me you’ve never stuck your fingers up your bum.” I cringe again. Jesus, maybe I am a prude. Just the way he says such intimate things like he’s ordering pizza or chatting about cinema makes me die a little inside. 

I play with his bed sheets in my hands, pulling at the threads. It’s impossible to tear the threads out, one because I have stumpy fingers and two the sheets are incredibly well made. I wonder what's the thread count? 

“Yes, I’ve masturbated before.” I announce, quite loudly too. I didn’t mean to but it took so much energy to force the words out they came at a heightened volume. 

Alexander raises his hands in-front of himself defensively and it makes me want to smack the shit out of him. 

“No need to be grouchy.” 

“Look. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” I really wonder why I even have to say that. It should be common sense. Wearing a device made to sexually arose you at work is not a good idea. What's he trying to get at with an idea like that anyways? Getting me fired isn't sexy and I know damn well he won't wanna get in my pants when I come over smelling like French fries with a welcome to McDonalds shirt on. 

I can just see it now. I’m sitting at my desk, trying to hide my erection under the table. It’ll be high school all over again. Then you know, I'd have to go the the bathroom to relive myself and god knows someone will walk in. I'll have to stop, like in middle of it all and just stand there. Such a dumb, dumb idea. 

“You said you wanted to try out some of the things.” Yes, Yes, indeed my dearest Alexander I did... I really was referring to hand cuffs and flavoured lube. Though I did go deep enough into his Hannah Montana closet to find the other... sexual weaponry he had down there. Jesus, who knew someone who wears kakis would be such a sexual deviant. Well, okay I can think of many sexual deviants who wear kakis. For example, my literature teacher Mr. Huggins (yes the name is very, very telling) got caught watching boys piss in the bathroom. He wore kakis like they were sewed to his fucking legs. 

“You haven’t even told me what you do for work.... you’re not a stripper right? Because then I’d understand why-“ 

“You know what, I’ve had a change of heart let’s do it.” I change the topic quick. It’s true that I haven’t mentioned my work much to Alec, mostly because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m using him. I’m apart of the media technically. That’s like a congressman sleeping with a reporter; never ends well. I’m just glad we haven’t had any matches yet. I wonder how I'd be able to keep a clear head and talk monotonously as I watch Alec bend his sweet ass over every ten minutes. I wouldn't even need the damn vibrator. God how distracted Alexander would make me, strutting around that field in his tight white pants and sweat resistant shirt that clings to every part of his chest. 

“Okay I just got an idea.” Oh no... 

Alexander leaves his position of standing in front of me like an angry mother and sits on the bed with me. 

“I have a dumb charity game tomorrow. It’s not that huge mostly just fundraising and a chance for my dad to woe over some dumb investor people.” I nod, thinking that I already know where his is going.

“How about I wear a vibrating cock ring-“ Jesus Christ “ - and you have the vibrator in and we have a little competition of our own.” I open my mouth but close it. God, Alexander, you always know how to make me speechless. How can a man be so casually about doing sexual things around his father? Well, I barley had a father so maybe I'm just out of the loop on father-son activities. 

“Competition, Huh. What’s the prize for the winner?” I already know what I want; a nice dinner at red lobster. That place has the best cheese bread my god. I'd do this shit every day just to have a lifetime supply. 

“Winner decides how we celebrate my winning of the match.” Red lobster here I come! 

“How do you know you’re gonna win the match.” I raise an eyebrow. 

“I always win. Plus I’ve been practising.” Alec looks offended. 

“Sucking your instructors dick doesn’t count as practise.” 

“Oh fuck off. I haven’t lately.” He cracks a smile.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I agree.” I slowly feel myself regret that answer as a huge grin creeps up Alexanders face.

Now I wonder how the hell am I gonna win? The match will be hours, two at minimum and I don’t last... very long embarrassingly enough but neither does Alec, unless he gets distracted which happens more than it should during sex. I don't know if red lobster is enough motivation. Honestly when I'm all hot 'n bothered, cheese bread is the last thing I'm thinking about.

I know the only reason he wants to do this is to somehow spite his father and surprising I don’t feel very guilty at helping with that. Unfortunately Alec's gonna be more focused. He'll probably win too. I can see it now; he'll just want a blowjob or something. Maybe I can make him think he wants red lobster? I could blow him in red lobster. I'd be fine with that. I wouldn't be able to swallow though; I can't have the cheese bread mixing with sperm after taste. Maybe this will be fun. Nerve wrecking but fun. 

“At least you don’t have to worry about working with it now.” Alexander cheers, kissing my neck and trailing his hand down my chest. 

“Huh?” 

He rubs on top of the sheets, right where my dick lays beneath it. 

“Who works on Sunday?” Fuck, the guy who voice overs your every move. I wiggle a bit underneath his touch. 

“Ha, right. Its all worked out.” I assure, more to myself than him. He gives me a toothy smile and slips his hand underneath the sheets. 

“I knew it would.”

*****

You know what’s awkward about sex? The small time in between taking off your clothes and the actual fucking beginning. That is happening right now and I don’t know how to feel. 

I’m laying on Alexander’s bed, still sleepy. He woke me up at six. It was needed since I have work but I’m not happy about it. He walked off to shower, which I did last night, and came back with the sex toys. 

I sigh, rubbing my chest. I’m already hard. He smirks at me, crawling on the bed. God, I get shivers. 

“You ready?” I nod and he pulls down the blankets. I still have my underwear on. He doesn’t pull them down right away which I wish he would. Maybe he’d jerk me off a little too? God that’d feel wonderful. He fucked me twice yesterday, both whilst his mother pouted upstairs, and yet I’m still wiggling beneath him like a freaking virgin. 

“Maybe you should come to my match? I really wanna see you squirming in your seat.” He smirks, getting in between my legs. I grind up on him shameless. 

“I have work.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Uhuh, okay well you know the rules.” 

“Yes. If I give in and either cum in my pants or jack off in the bathroom I must call you.” I mutter like a child. 

“And I’ll do the same.” He smiles. He goes to feel me up a bit but then stops himself. Why... don’t stop. Please?

“I’m not gonna give you a disadvantage.” 

“Oh sweet of you.” I say bitterly. 

“Remove your underwear.” He pats my thigh. 

I slid them down to my ankles, very, very awkwardly seeing as though he is on top of me. I finally kick them off my feet and spread my legs. I hump Alec like a teenager. My dick feels so good rubbed up against the soft towel he has wrapped around his waist. 

“Aye, stop.” He pushes my hips down. “I fucked you twice last night, how are you still horny?” 

“Please those lasted five minutes each and had thirty minute time intervals.” 

“Uhuh alrighto, hand me the lube baby.” I throw it at him. He gives me a disappointed look. 

“It’s like you don’t even realise I’m going to be in control of the vibrator today. But fine be bitchy, you’ll regret it when you trying not to cum in front of your coworkers.” 

“Ditto bitch.” I sass. He rolls his eyes and scoots back. I spread my legs. Is this how girls at the gynaecologist feel? 

I watch him apply a liberal about of strawberry flavour lube to his fore finger, then his index finger... and his- holy shit how many is he planing on putting inside me?

“Wha-“ 

“This is punishment for your attitude.” He says. Oh god. I’m not five. I don’t need a punishment. 

He slips his hand down, trailing past my cock and balls. He finds my anus after what seems like hours. I almost took my phone and googled the human anatomy to help him out. 

I chew the inside of my cheek as he pushes a finger in. I never understand why in pornos guys almost cum just with one finger. Sure it’s like intrusively arousing but there’s not much pleasure from it. 

He puts in another and that’s when I make the a porno certified moan. You see, Alec has these really long, slim fingers. One is pretty much nothing, two is, well it’s like a dildo but on the leaner size. 

He moves his fingers around, scrapping around. It hurts alittle until he finds my prostate then my hips hitch up and my head falls back. 

If I had to describe the feeling, it would be like a mixture of shivering and when you piss after holding it in for a long time. Sounds gross but it feels wonderful. 

“Hmm..” 

“Don’t get too comfortable.” He warns. He attempts to add the third, pulling his others back a little. It doesn’t go in the first or second try, but he was being too gentle on those tries. Finally with frustration he kinda jams it in there. I squeak, shifting back. 

“Oh fuck I’m sorry.” He apologies. 

“Its fine, it’s fine.” I chant. That fucking hurt. 

He moves them around and it he gets my prostate a couple times, making me squirm around and let out small whines. 

“Alright, enough of that.” He pulls out all his fingers. I scuff and lightly punch his arm, after dragging myself to a sitting up position. I fall right back down. It’s like a crutch and punch.

“Ouch, what the hell.” He whines. I guess I didn’t punch that light. 

“You stopped!” 

“Yeah, I can’t just finger you all day.” 

“Have you ever been fingered before?” I ask and his face twitches a bit. 

“Yeah, I’ve been fucking fingered before.” 

“Then you know how fucking annoying it is when someone just stops outta nowhere!” He rolls his eyes for a good thirty seconds. I genuinely think they’re going to be permanently stuck in the back of his head after a while. 

“This is supposed to be annoying, Magnus. That’s the whole point. So stop being a bitch about it okay?” He starts lubing up the vibrator and I just watch with a sour look on my face. 

“You know what I’m going to do? When I win?” I say, picking at my nails. 

“Huh, what?” He keeps his eyes on the toy. He simply caresses it, as if it’s an actual dick or something, whilst his awaits my answer. 

“I’m gonna fuck you, then make you blow me and swallow.” I say. He just scuffs. 

“Uhuh.” He mumbles, going in between my legs to put the vibrator in. 

“You know what I’m going to do?” 

“Wha-at.” I stutter as he pushes the object in with no warning. 

“I’m going to take you to a nice restaurant... whilst you’re still wearing the vibrator... and make you suck me off in one of the bathroom stalls. Oh and you won’t be able to cum at all. All night.” Alec says, grinning like a maniac. 

“Pf. Sounds fine to me.” Nice restaurant, Huh? Maybe red lobster... possibly? 

“Oh I bet it does you little shit.” 

“Well it’s in.” I sit up and shift around. It feels weird having something inside me... like without it moving around. Now I know how tampons feel to girls. 

“Now for you.” I grab at his towel but he slaps my hand away. 

“I can do my own.” 

“I bet.” I pull off his towel and he just glares. Tough titties princess. 

I grab the rubbery thing that looks like a deformed keychain and some lube. I go to squirt some lube in my hands but then I think of a better idea. I put cock ring-vibrator thing down and lather my hands up with lube. I use more than I should but I really want to find out if it does taste like strawberries. 

Alec watches me with careful eyes but doesn’t question me, just lays down and goes along for the ride. 

I rub up and down Alec’s surprisingly half hard penis. You’d think he’d be fully aroused by now. After a couple goes at jerking him off; he’s fully hard. Now for the fun. 

I bend down and start by licking his cock just with the tip of my tongue. The lube does taste like strawberries but more like strawberry toothpaste. After a couple strokes his cock jumps up when I tongue barley touches it. 

I look up at Alec who has his head back and eyes closed. His face is hard with concentration. God, I really wanna break him down. 

Fuck it. I take his cock in my mouth, sucking on the tip at first. I watch Alec’s face as I do. He clenches his jaw and I can feel his legs twitch. I go further, and further until I have two third of it in my mouth. I don’t have the effort to deep throat him so I just suck on his cock for a good minute. 

“Just fucking put the cock ring on already, jesus!” I pull off and let go, letting his cock bobbly up and down like those inflatable men at car dealerships. I grin as he clenches his fists. 

I pick up the cock ring and inspect it. I am curious to how it work. It’s bright, bright pink loop with a tiny little arm piece sticking out. Wonder what’s for... oh it’s like anal bead thingie. In case you want both forms of pleasure I assume. 

I slip it on his cock and under his balls. He moans like a little bitch the whole time too. It’s so cute. I get off him and go to get dressed. When I come back, he’s still laying there, lightly fondling his cock and balls. 

“Come on, you’re gonna be late.” 

“Ugh.” He groans getting up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me who you want to win! I’m kinda leaning towards Alec winning  
> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	10. Fuck don’t make me think about holes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next will be told from Alec’s point of view

I’m not going to lie, it’s a bit nerve wracking. Even though this “match” isn’t particularly important, at least to me, I still feel the need to be at my best. In theory, feeling like someone is constantly groping you is more that at one’s best but in practise, its a horrible idea. 

As I sit in my car, thanking whatever god that will still listen to me that I’m not the one to drive, everything feels amazing. It’s like whole word is hugging me but also reminding how perverted I am. 

I’m not really concerned what others think, not anymore but what I think always seems to ruin everything. I just want to reach down, enjoy this, but then I’m reminded I’m in public... going to a golf match that will be televised. God, the shame is almost destroying the moment. Almost. 

I secretly can’t wait for Magnus to turn it on. I wonder if he’s feeling the same anxiousness as me. Of course, on a smaller level, since he’s in an office or somewhere and in a few minutes I’ll be broadcasted to all America. 

My hands tentatively trace the zipper of my sweater as I think about it. Fuck. Just thinking about it makes me wanna- I should stop thinking about it. 

The driver pulls into the reserved road which leads to the privately owned golf course; privately owned by the family of my component, Sebastian Verlac, which hardly seems fair. 

“It’s for charity.” I mutter to myself. Whatever just a fun natured game with fucking Sebastian verlac and a cockring wrapped tightly around, well, my cock. 

The car stops and I know I have to get out. My legs feel so shaky. I really hate and love Magnus for teasing me beforehand. 

I stumble out of the car, which nobody seems to notice-or maybe they just don’t care. I seem to be stumbling around drunk a lot so it wouldn’t be a new occurrence but I feel like somebody should be worried about that. 

I’m guided into a large house, where I’ll stay for a hour or so whilst the greens are getting set up, cameras fixed on every possible scene. I know I’ll have to do pre game interviews, at least just one, most likely with Sebastian who’s lurking around somewhere. Ugh, i let out the yawn I’ve been suppressing since I walked in, right as both my father and the devil himself walk into the room. 

“Great to see your manners haven’t changed, Alexander.” My father grumbles, causing Sebastian to belt out an enthusiastically fake laugh. I know it’s fake because when I look past his bloodily red lips I find two practically black, dead eyes. I resist the urge to gouge them out. 

“Sorry, I’m just waiting for my coffee to kick in.” I smile, it doesn’t meet my eyes either but I’m not trying to impress anyone. Sebastian slaps me on the back and chuckles out a “me too”. 

“Get your piece of bitch trash hands off me.” I think to myself, smiling like an idiot at the two people I dislike the most. God, I hate having to be fake all the time. 

“Hey, Alec I can show you around if you’d like.” Sebastian says, grabbing a hold of my arm. He’s shown this house to me about a thousand times before. 

I go along, letting him drag me down a series of hallways like a rag doll for a couple of minutes, before we reach a dark little corner with a huge painting of napoleon on one side. 

“Look, the lady interviewing us is going to probably ask about-“ 

I cut him off with a tired look. “About the sex tape?” His jaw goes tense. 

“Precisely.” 

“Ok?” I scuff, confused. That tape has been out for two years, it’s been out for as long as I’ve been out. I would expect it to be old news by now, hardly ground breaking enough to bring up at a charity golf match. 

“Ok?” Sebastian gives me a bewildered look. “People are starting to say I’m the other man in it.” 

This makes me roll my eyes to the point where they could get stuck in the back of my head. 

“But you are? Nobody can even see your face... “I let out another yawn. The media has beaten this dead horse so much it’s already a menu item at Arby’s. 

“Look, I know you don’t care about your reputation-“ 

“The one you destroyed? That one?” I cross my arms. 

Now Sebastian rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not the one who released the tape.” He said, squinting his eyes at me like the little rat he is. 

“The only reason I did-“ he cuts me off with a loud ‘sh’. I lower my voice and continue, “the only reason I did was because you said you were going to.” 

“You could’ve just thrown the game like-“ the rest of his sentence goes right over my head as a feel small vibration start on my cock. I tighten my jaw and keep my arms locked in front of me. 

“You alright?” Sebastian asks, giving me a suspicious look. He steps closer and it takes everything in me to step back. I go too far and hit the wall. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Are you...” his eyes trail down to my kakis which I absolutely abhor at the moment for being tight fitting. I’m already hard. He knows. 

“I won’t say anything about the tap, Jesus just- just.” I pause loosing my train of thought. My hand goes into my snug pocket and started pressing the remote’s button like crazy. Let the games begin. 

***** 

The interview goes okay. She asks mostly about the foundation we’re playing for, which I knew nothing about. She does hint about the new “finding” of the tape by, I guess, asking me if I was always such good friends with Sebastian. That reach could touch the moon if you ask me. 

I just smile and say something corny about how Sebastian is funny guy. Of course Sebastian, like a true sociopath, has the personality of a sponge so I’m pretty much lying my ass off. 

The camera turns off, the lady walks away but my mic stays on. What the hell?

My dad walks up to me, fixing the collar of my deep green sweater. I’d rather he didn’t touch me. At least the vibrating has stopped. Oh shit I forgot to turn off Magnus’. I quickly jam my hand into my pocket, turn the remote off. I’m going to pay for that later, shit. 

“Look, they want the mic still on so they can get a better hear at what your saying on the field. You know, some friendly banter with Sebastian... compliment the field, shrubbery. No swearing. This is a match for to raise money for presents for foster kids. Be wholesome.” He tells me, his rat eyes looking into mine. This must’ve been the most he’s ever talk to me in two years. As I think he’s done he grabs me by the sweater and pulls me in close so he can whisper in my ear. 

“There are people from Buzzfeed here and they will be asking you questions after words about that.. thing” he spits out the word like it was poison in his mouth. “You will say nothing. My friendship with the Verlacs will not be destroyed because my son is a -“ 

“Got it.” I push him away. 

“Do something about that, as well. You got at least five minutes before your expected on the field.” He points the semi noticeable hard straining against my pants. I try not the blush but I do. Can everyone see it? 

***** 

We’re ushered out onto the field, my caddy and brother Jace talking my ear off about how many different types of way I can not noticeably insult Sebastian. 

I look around the field, at the audience crowed behind the bars. Mostly ladies and men dressed in pastel but someone catches my eye. Magnus? 

I drop my club and walk over to the rail he’s behind. 

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

His eyes, which are covered in eye shadow, go big. “I’m here to cheer you on. Apparently I wasn’t needed at work today.” He says with a smirk. 

“I forgot to turn-“ 

“I know.” He waves me off. “I was in a car so the Uber driver just gave me some weird looks and I had to tip him extra. No worries.” 

I can’t help by lick my lips at the thought of Magnus spread out in the back of a car, probably a prius, squirming around because his ass is vibrating so hard. God, the noises he most likely made. 

“You gonna last?” He asks, starring down at my crotch. I finally look around for any cameras near then whisper in his ear. “You should be asking how hard I’m going to fuck you when I win.” A smirk creeps up his face as his hand slips into his pocket. I can’t help but smile. This is going to be a fun eighteen holes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	11. Hole 11?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters will be back in magnus’ pov

Fuck. I’m at the eighteenth hole and he still hasn’t even touched the remote. I can see him smirking in the crowd. I watch Sebastian put, bitting my nails nervously. What the fuck are both of them waiting for? 

I’ve been messing with him the whole time and he’s taken it surprisingly well. Maybe it’s because nobody is focused on him... he doesn’t have the prying eyes of the public on him like I do. He has my eyes on him though. 

I wonder if any of the cameras men have caught on to the fact I’ve been staring into the crowd for the majority of the game. God, maybe it’ll be on some sport reel. I hate sport channels; I quit watching them once I noticed I was on them. I don’t care what some weirdo with a monotone voice thinks about my golf skills.

I do notice the camera men zooming in on me, filming me taking my close to last shot. I’m so glad I decided to tuck my cock to my right leg today. From their angel, my hard on isn’t viewable. Thank god, I would loose my mind if I had my fucking father commenting on it again. 

Right as I pull my arms back, taking my shot, I feel the vibe of the cock ring start up again. Instead of stoping, halting in my position, I swing full force. My eyes widen for half a second before I try to act normal. Let them think you wanted to swing hard enough to land your ball twenty meters too far away, I tell myself. 

I throw my head back a little, feeling it already becoming stiff from the game. We haven’t really been out here for that long... two hours at least. 

Jason pats me on the back, making me jump a little. 

“Damn, good shot.” He cheers. I furrow my eyebrows. What? 

I look back towards wherever the hell my ball landed and I see it’s maybe an centimetre or so away from the hole. Well fuck me. 

Sebastian seems to be just as gobsmacked as I am because he can only gape at me. It’s not like we’ve had great chemistry this game but it probably doesn’t help that he’s staring me down like I’m a mad man. 

I roll my shoulders and give him an eat-shit grin as he goes to put. 

The problem with Sebastian technique is that he has too much. He over analysis everything. You can see it in the way he hunched over and squints out his aim. If I didn’t want to beat the living shit out of him, I’m totally offer him some advice in confidence, which he’s clearly lacking. 

I can remember the time when we were mates... more even, but those memories are so sour now. It’s like remembering when my father loved me... so long ago and really doesn’t help anything now. 

I find myself glaring at him for a while, picturing what his face with look like after a couple bruises. Maybe I could break his nose, then he’d have an excuse to get that nose job he’s desperately needing. It would be so selfless of me. 

I can feel my cock growing unbearable hard as the cock ring kicks up vibration level. I bit down on my lip enough to draw blood. It feel so fucking good. 

Sebastian puts, fucking finally. His ball falls short of mine and it takes me a minute to realise now I have to walk. Ugh, the feeling of my Kakis rubbing against my cock and the vibrations of the ring drives me crazy. 

I feel so exposed walking over to my ball. I don’t want to bend to put. I can feel my self painfully inching closer to the edge. Fuck, he’s not going to make me cum in my pants, in fucking public, will he?

I need to think of unsexy thoughts... my eyes catch Sebastian’s wrist. He’s wearing some Christian brotherhood rubber bracelets. Nothing less sexy then a group of men abstaining from sex for Jesus. 

Just as I tap my ball, the cock ring halts. It feels so reliving and tortuous at the same time. On one hand I wish it kept going so I could finish, and on the other hand, I acknowledge that cuming my pants in public would be horrific.

My ball slowly rolls down to the hole, catching more and more friction as it goes. By the time it’s within falling in the hole, it’s almost being pushed by the wind. I’m about to let out a heavy sigh because it seems like I’m going to have to tap it in with another go. But I won’t because the ball circles the hole about half way then falls in. Good god. Now all I have to do is wait for Sebastian 

I impatiently tape my foot as he takes almost hours to figure out the direction of the wind. Just fucking shoot Jesus fucking Christ god fucking damn it, I think as I chew off some skin with the nail of my thumb. Perfectionist piece of shit, I roll my eyes. 

I’m too busy loosing my mind to keep calm for the cameras. I know I’ll get a huge ass speech about it later but I need some sort of movement. 

By the time Sebastian actually shoots, I’ve been pacing in a circle for two minutes. 

Such an annoying little cunt, I think to myself, glaring at Sebastian’s back. He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. He has to know. Fuck, does everyone know? 

I wearily look around, towards the cameras and towards the gates. Nobody seems too attentive on... my situation. Well, except Magnus, who has been staring me down with a huge grin on his face. He’s enjoying this too much. I grab the remote in my pants and turn it on. He tenses up, wrapping his arms around himself. 

He almost worry he’ll turn mine back on, make me orgasm in my pants... in front of everyone. But he doesn’t. 

“Hey, earth to Alec!” Sebastian waves in front of my face. I want to grab his hand and push him down... stomp on him. 

“Sorry I got distracted.” I give him a shy smile. I wonder how many times a day he still thinks about fucking me. 

“Good game?” He goes to shake my hand and I involuntarily take a step back. Shit, no. 

“Uh, yeah...” I shake his hand. I can feel the cameras zooming in on me. “Um who won?” I ask innocently and everyone laughs. 

“You did, silly.” He answers, laughing like the joker. His eyes are boring into my soul it seems like but I really can’t be bothered with it. I need to get to a bathroom. 

“I need to piss.” I announce, quite loudly mind you, a lot louder than I attended. I don’t care, they’ll laugh anyways like psychos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	12. Hole 12

I get a text from my phone, just as I notice Alec disappeared to somewhere. 

\- second hall, last room on the left. 

What the hell? I assume he means in the house... am I even allowed in there? It’s private property. I watch tentatively as reporters flood into the house from the back patio. Well, at least I won’t be the only unwanted person there. 

I take about a good two kilometres walk to the house. I’m so relieved the course ends near the back yard. I find it hard to walk, every movement forcing the vibrator to move... right against my prostate. I can’t wait to take it out. 

Once I get the back patio, which doors are blown wide open. The heard really has no manners. A raccoon or something could get into the house. I close the doors after me, like the gentleman I am, trying not to think about how hilarious it would be to see all the well made up reports screaming over a raccoon. If only reality was as amusing as my imagination. 

I don’t really know what hallway he’s taking about as I look around the empty basement. It dawns on me that everyone’s up stairs, on the main level, so Alec should be too. I trudge up the stairs, my ass getting a real work out. 

I come up stairs to what seems like a party. There’s Champaign... food. Jesus, I’m hungry. I grab a sandwich, nobody noticing my presence, and take a bit of it as I wondered around. Cucumber, yum. 

I finally think I found the hall Alec was talking about. It really long. There’s some family paintings and shit of Sebastian. Huh, would you look at that, all of his family looks like albino guinea pigs. 

I get to the end of it, and knock on the left door. There’s a couple minutes of silence before the door opens and a hand grabs my shirt, dragging me in. 

Once I’m in, I’m face to face with a very distraught Alexander. 

“Oh my god, Magnus please... jerk me off, suck me off, fucking let me hump you... I need to cum.” He practically cries, hands fondling my chest. I take a last bit of my sandwich, wiping the crumbs on my pants

“Okay.” I say, still thinking with a mouth full of cucumber sandwich. I have him at my will. I don’t think this will happen again anytime soon. “Only if you give me a blowjob-” Alec is already nodding his head before I finish. “And swallow.” I finish, ironically as I swallow my sandwich.

His face falls a little bit, but he still nods. There’s no time between him nodding and dropping to his knees. He almost rips my pants off trying to undo the buttons. Jesus Christ... 

He face his messily pressed right against my crotch, mouthing at my bulge. His slobber is wetting the front part of my red boxer briefs. Okay well technically they’re he’s and I’m just borrowing them. 

The expensive Calvin Klein material is soaked by the time I try and hint at Alec maybe pulling them down a bit. It looks like I’ve pissed myself. 

“Alexander?” He looks up from what he’s doing like a lost puppy. God, those big Atlantic blue eyes. 

“Could you make mouth to skin contact please. I ask, causing Alec’s cheeks to turn bright red. Too cute. 

“Yeah sorry.” He coughs into his elbow and pulls down my underwear. The bathroom air is so cold against my slightly damp, fully erect penis. It’s not cold for long though, because Alec wraps his cherry red lips around it in no time. 

I rest my body fully against the door, letting relief wash over me. It mouth is so warm... so cozy. I could stay like this forever. 

“Hey, um, could you turn on the vibrator?” I ask meekly, eyes closed, head titled back. Alexander hums a yes put on my dick, reaches into his pocket and slides my cock out from his mouth. No, no, keep it in. 

“I told you, you’d like it.” He says, sounding out of breath. I roll my eyes. He turns it on to the second level of vibration and going back to sucking me. 

Right as the vibrator hits my prostate just right, I grab his head by the hair and hold him in place. I don’t notice that I’m forcing him to deep throat me with no warning or the gargling noise coming from him until after I’m pushed over the edge. 

I hump into his mouth, which is tightly glued to my pelvis now, aggressively as I ride out my orgasm. Finally, I release him, relaxing against the door way. He turns off the vibrator, holding my cum in his mouth. His face is beet red and there’s drool all over his chin and shirt. 

“Ay. Look at me.” I order, grabbing his face. “Swallow.” He looks at me miserably but does as told. Once he does he lets out a couple coughs, siting back on the floor. 

“Can I cum now?” He says, looking exhausted. I almost forgot that he had played a two hour golf match before this.

“Yeah, yeah. Come here.” I ponder how I should get him off. On one hand, I really don’t feel like giving head, for a plethora of reasons: I’m tired myself from standing all day, I really don’t want to put a huge amount of energy into giving him an orgasm... plus, I really don’t want the taste of cum in my mouth all day. 

I look around the room for a tooth brush. Maybe I could brush my teeth after? There isn’t one. Well we’re going to have to go with a handjob. 

***** 

After the ‘after party/q&a with reporters’ part of the golf match Alexander and I went our separate ways; he to his house and me to my cozy flat. 

I realise how home sick I was when I get back. It seemed I like had spent an adornment amount of time over at Alec’s. I think for a quick second that he should come over here but the cat hair covering the couch and wine stains on my rug make me change my mind. 

Him and I did discuss, over text message in the separate car rides home, what exactly I wanted for winning. The first thing I asked for was a dinner at Red Lobster, which was agreed to without hesitation and to top him. It took him a good ten minutes to reply on that one. At first I felt like maybe I went too far and sent a rambling text about how I really didn’t matter to me if that was something he wasn’t comfortable with and in my mind I went on a downward spiral. 

Maybe I went to far with the blowjob thing and he doesn’t think I respect his boundaries. Maybe this, maybe that. Let’s just say it was a hell of a ten minutes for my anxious ass. 

He responded with a simple “okay” and my heart started to beat normal. We also discussed dates, deciding on next Saturday for our dinner and to spend the following Sunday together. Apparently, he’s father is staying in town, along with his mother, at his place for the next couple of weeks. I assume due to the Masters golf tournament coming up soon, though he doesn’t give me that specifically as a reason why. 

I smile as I walk into my mini kitchen which is nuzzled in the right corner of my flat’s main room, right next to the door. I find a half eat box of pop tarts and a warm sparkling water from one of my cabinets. 

I eat half the strawberry milk shake flavoured diabetes and wash it down with the flat, sparkling water before starting on clean up. Kat did a good amount of cleaning whilst I was away but I feel the need to do more. I end up using a lint roller on my couch, removing all the hair and throwing out my rug. I wipe up my hard wood floors with a swifter sweeper which I’m sure I’ve only touched once. I also make my bed and organise my closet, before showering. 

I, of course, remove the vibrator, clean it, and putting in a plastic baggy. I leave it in a drawer in my bathroom then cuddle up with chairman meow who seems incredibly bitter by the lack of attention he’s been getting from me lately. I watch some random late night shows, then somehow find myself watching The Andre Show before passing out, still in my robe. 

*****

Of course I have a good two weeks to plan our time together but I only start actually preparing the day before. Procrastination really knows no bounds. 

I wake up the Friday before with a slight panic. I had already confirmed with Alexander that he would be staying over at my place for the rest of the week end, no problem. There is a problem, of course, with the fact my flat is really messy. 

I don’t know what I was thinking for the last week but, “hey someone is coming over” definitely didn’t cross my mind. 

I started with cleaning up all the wrappers, mostly hot pocket and pop tarts because I’m twelve, and then do some heavy cleaning. 

I polish the floors, with a solution I didn’t even know I had, whip down my whole three windows, vacuum, do dishes, wash clothes and the rest is just hiding or replacing things. 

I make a grocery list, noting my fridge is really empty... except for a quarter full Coke Zero which doesn’t even have fizz anymore. I write down the basics, lettuce, yogurt, milk, bread, cheese, eggs, butter, and some wine. I unconsciously scribbled down condoms but then remember how I don’t think we’ve ever used one. Alec said since we didn’t have any diseases it shouldn’t matter. We probably still should wear them. I’m under the oppression we are only sleeping with each other but that could change. I don’t cross it out. 

In the supermarket, I breeze through the isle with ease grabbing everything I need. The total food shopping takes me twenty minutes. Now, when getting the condoms... I’m really stumped. They have so many sizes, textures, flavours. It’s all overwhelming. I decide to get one flavoured and a half‘n’half of the ribbed and regular.

Now for the size. I really wouldn’t know what I’d categorise either mine or his dick. I mean we’re on the larger side, but not that big. We’re on the bigger size of medium I would say but still can’t really figure it out which would fit. I usually wear a medium in Trojan but they’re out of Trojan. 

Quickly I take out my phone and text Alexander. 

Me: what size does your dick fit.

Alexander:? 

I sigh and take a picture of the two boxes I’m looking at. They’re both strawberry flavoured but ones a large fit and the others a medium. 

Alexander:... large? 

I toss a multi pack of medium and large in the strawberry and a medium in the half’n’half of ribbed. I also grabbed a strawberry flavoured lube, remembering how mines running out. This is going to be one hell of a weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if the chapter lengths bother you guys or not. I try and space out chapter ideas pretty well but if you like them longer (or shorter) let me know.  
> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


	13. Hole 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovey dovey porn

I wake up Saturday giddy as hell. I haven’t tasted red lobster since my parents’ divorce. They made me come to court and decide who, I wanted to have custody. Of course, without hesitation, I said my mom and she brought me to red lobster as a reward. 

I can still smell, taste, feel the warm, fluffy goodness of the cheddar bay biscuits. 

I take a shower, cleaning myself up and get dressed around 18:30h. Alexander said he’d pick me up at 20h, so I wait for close to fifteen minutes, watching some baseball game that’s on. Once I hear a knock on the door, I turn off the tv and almost break into a sprint.

Alexander is wearing a navy blue button up with small cats all over it, black jeans and loafers. It looks a bit odd but the leather jacket pulls it all together and make me feel like I am under dressed. 

I’m wearing a grey button up, which has the middle button missing but you wouldn’t be able to tell by just glancing at me, regular skinny jeans and some semi clean black converses. Of course, I have my earrings in and some weird tree pendulum necklace thingie I found in my top drawer of my dresser. 

I can tell he’s wearing cologne, Kelvin Klein or Armani, and it completely overshadows my bath and body works champagne toast, which isn’t even mine. Kat left it at my place, but there was a good bit left and I ran out of my own body wash. 

We walk down to his car in complete silence. He keeps his hand awkwardly positioned on the lower of my back. Maybe it’s not awkward. I don’t know. It feels awkward. 

By the time we make it to the car, he quickly opens the door and pushes me in. I guess that’s why his hand was there, in its readying position. 

I give him a confused glance as he gets in and put on my seatbelt. 

“Sorry, I’m just nervous someone will see us.” He whispers, signalling at his driver to go. 

“Oh.” I respond, not keeping the disappointment from my voice. It’s not me; it’s the media, I tell myself.

“Look, some unflattering pictures of me got, uh, leaked so I’m sure people are going to want to be taking pictures/video of us left and right.” 

“That’s-“ 

His snarl cuts me off, whispering under his breath “People, more like fucking wastes of flesh. Fucking cunts.” 

I raise my eyebrows and don’t finish what I tried to begin. 

“Oh, just so you’re aware, we’re not going in.” He says, glaring at his phone. “I already pre ordered and payed for everything. Jon is going to get it for us, then drive us back to your place.” 

“oh?” I feel a stunned spark of rage. Why the hell didn’t he just show up with the food then?

“I got those cheddar bay biscuit thingies. They sounded good... and like lobster with shrimp. Sound good?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” I’m less pissed off hearing my biscuits are apart of the meal but I still can’t help feeling robbed of an experience. Anyone can order in, get take away. I fucking want a romantic evening. 

“I mean.” He starts, slamming him phone down on his lap. “At least you’ll get to fuck me right.” He smiles sourly with a off putting wink. 

“We don’t have to if-“ 

“No, don’t worry about. I’m actually thrilled about it.” He says quietly, brushing his hand threw his hair. “I’m just moody today.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask carefully. I don’t even know what ‘it’ is. Is it a picture or video that got leaked or some other drama brewing around... is it me?

“Okay, well. Somebody took pictures of me and my instructor... being more than friendly.” He grimaces. 

“Oh like porn? Isn’t that illegal?” 

“Not porn. No body parts were shown but the pictures still don’t look good.” 

“Oh.” I remind myself to look them up later. 

“I got a hear full about it from my father when I woke up. He’s convinced himself he has to stay with me threw the Masters tournament... to keep me in check.” 

“You can always stay with me.” I say without thinking. 

“I might just do that.” He smiles, grabbing my hand and interlocking it with his.

*****

Dinner was interesting. 

I tried to set up my small, two person dinning table in a romantic way; putting a candle opera I found in my closet and setting down a table cloth underneath. The table cloth didn’t match the candle opera or the sad yet clean state of my flat so it really looked off. Alexander either didn’t seem to notice or was too polite to point it out. 

We ate, well, I mean mostly me, all the biscuits on the car ride back to my flat building so all that was left was the shrimp and lobster. We ate both of those in complete silence. I tried not to rock my unstable table from a knock off IKEA, so that the candles wouldn’t fall and set everything into a fire. 

Though that was a sad, sad mess, what we did after dinner was much more memorable. 

We played a heated game of monopoly for close to three hours. I don’t know how but I got park place and Alexander from that point on in the game refused to let himself become bankrupt. Threw the tensions of the game, which I understood then why the royal family isn’t allowed to play it, we downed one and a half bottles of wine. Alec actually fell asleep on top of the board. 

Of course, I dragged him to my bedroom and let him finish resting on a more comfier surface. I didn’t remove his shirt or pants because that felt really rape-y to me. I knew he must’ve been uncomfortable but he slept like a baby. I slept on my couch. 

I wake first to the sound of my shower turning on but quickly slip back into slumber and regain consciousness fully thirty minutes later. What wakes me this time is a semi dressed Alec with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

He’s sitting on my lap, staring straight into my soul with a weird joker smile on his face. 

“You ready for some fun?” He asks, rubbing my chest. 

“Uh, yeah give me a second. I need to shower.” I really don’t want to leave the sofa. I don’t have a blanket or anything keeping me warm but I can’t help feel too comfortable to move. 

I look up at the ceiling, trying to keep my eyes open. I notice the coke stain from when I, very ignorantly, put coke in a contigo portable bottle. I briefly think about how I would clean that but I feel myself drifting off again at the thought. 

I force myself off the sofa, which isn’t that comfortable at all. Though, it’s more comfortable than Alec’s. My back hurts a little but it’s nothing a shower won’t fix. 

I stumbled into the bathroom, blindly turning on the shower, not waiting for the water to get hot. I’m in and out with in five minutes. I brush my teeth, moisturise and brush my hair before gracing Alexander with my presence. 

“Hello, sleepy head. Did the shower wake you up?” Alexander winks. 

“Yeah, I actually injected myself with caffeine in there so.” I say, holding back a yawn. He scutes up to the edge of my bed as I come towards him. 

He lightly grabs my hips and pulls me closer to his chest, my body in between his legs. 

“You excited?” I ask, running my hands through his fluffy hair. 

“You smell like the body-wash.” I laugh awkwardly, still in the embrace with him. 

“Well, yeah.” He gave me a small grin. 

“Did you already, uh.” 

“Yeah, um, in the bathroom, yeah.” 

“Okay.” I stand back a little further from him. “How do you want to do this?” I put my hand on my hips, analysing his body. 

I’d like to be able to see his face, drown in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you sure want to do this, because it’s fine if you don’t.” I say, nervously hoping I’m not pushing him past his boundaries. He doesn’t look very uncomfortable but he never seemed very keen on the idea before. I’m hating myself for suggesting it. 

“I’ve had anal sex before, Magnus. It’s not a problem.” He rolls his eyes, not really playfully... more like annoyed. What did I do?

What do I say? My first reaction is “I know” but that make it seem like I think he’s a slut. Well, it’s not a wrong assumption. 

“Uh, okay, well, um great. How do you want it?” 

“I want to ride you.” Not the answer I was expecting. 

“Okay.” He moves out of the way, so I can lay down on the bed. I discard my towel on the way. I’m not hard yet. 

He crawls over my body, hanging his face above mine. I think he’s going in for a kiss. I lean up to meet him half way only to realise he is going for my neck. 

I lay back, relaxing. My bed is so comfy. I got it from a thrift store, the frame not the mattress. I actually splurged quite a bit on my mattress. I got one of those sleep number beds. It cost me four months pay but it was so worth it. I can actually adjust the bed to my body and everything. Money well spent. 

Alec’s tongue finds behind my ear and I suddenly find my arousal. Not that simply seeing Alec naked doesn’t turn me on but I’m still sleepy. I was, not now, I’m wide wake now. 

“Are you seriously moaning just from me licking your ear?” Alexander whispered, amused, into my ear. His warm breath hitting my face makes me shiver and my cock harden more.

“Yep.” I gulp. All of the sudden, I feel self conscious.

I’ve topped a couple men, three at least that I can remember. I’ve never had complaints but right now that doesn’t mean much to me. All my brain is focused on is pleasing Alexander or... the more dreary, not pleasing Alexander. 

My cock is above average, not really special though. I’m sure he’s had bigger. What if I can’t pleasure him? Will he forget about me?

“You alright?” He lifts his head up, looking in my eyes. I widen mine. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“This isn’t your first time... topping, right?” His voice is full of genuine concern. It makes me feel better, hearing what translates to me as him caring. He could be just making sure he’s not wasting his time. We haven’t know each other that long. 

“No, is it your first time-“ 

“No, I already said so.” He cuts me off, his ears turn red. We stare at each other for a couple seconds. My erection is in full swing and it doesn’t like the lack of activity. 

“The condoms are in the drawer.” 

He climbs over me, giving me a great view of his nipple as he rummages through my drawer. I hope I didn’t leave any weird porno magazine in there. Yes, I still use magazines. I don’t feel comfortable with the government know what porn I like. I don’t mind some miserable twenty something who got turned down at Baskin Robins for having an illegal past knowing. They’re probably going to vape themselves to death before they remember my face. 

“Wow. You really went all out.” He snorts. He pulls out three, which I assume are all in my size. 

“Well, I didn’t know which you’d like so.” 

“No, no. It’s great. I can’t remember the last time I used a condom.” He says as he sits on my chest, studying each small package. 

That’s incredibly troubling, I think. I just smile and awkwardly nod. My dick is freezing my balls off right now. 

“Which are you gonna pick.” I ask. He shows me the regular and I nod. Great, regular. I could’ve saved thirty dollars. 

He finally gets off my chest and gives my dick some well deserved attention. 

He opens the package, taking out the condom but pauses before putting it on me. 

“Wanna see a trick?” His eyes light up. 

“Of course.” I cheer. 

I watch carefully as he pokes his finger in the condom, pushing it up a little, then placing it in his mouth. His lips guard the rim, keeping it from falling. He bends down, harshly grabbing my needy, needy cock. His hands are so cold. 

My eyes widen a little as I watch him place the condom, which is still in his mouth, on the tip of my dick. He hold it there, probably gaining some sort of balance before pushing down, his tongue guiding the condom down. He swallows my dick inch by inch, dragging the condom over it as he goes. Finally he gets the the bottom, deep throating me. I notice he isn’t coughing like he was last time. 

He pulls off, making a cute little pop noise with his mouth. He has a little bit of saliva on his chin and now bright pink lips. He grins wide. 

I clap, not taking time to think if it’s appropriate in this context. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He takes a small bow, making me smile. 

He looks behind him, then around the bed. “Lube?” 

“Drawer. I should’ve said that before. Sorry.” 

“No problem.” He reaches over again pulling it quicker this time. I should’ve left the condoms in their individual boxes. Damnit. 

“Oo, strawberry.” He licks his lips. I can’t tell wether on purpose or because he noticed he had drooled himself. He wipes his chin, whilst reading the back of the bottle. 

“Do you have allergies?” He looks up and shakes his head. 

He pours a small portion out, teasingly licking it from his finger. 

“Taste like a weird cough medicine.” He laughs, furrowing his eyebrows more as he goes in for a second lick. 

“Interesting.” I comment. 

“You wanna taste?” I say sure, and he squirts some more out. He doesn’t give me his finger to lick. He licks it up but doesn’t close his mouth. He leans over, landing in for a kiss. A French kiss. 

I open my mouth. We messily meet and I somehow actually find his tongue with mine in enough time to taste the lube. It does taste like cough medicine. 

“Yummy.” I say once he pulls back. 

“Definitely.” He grins. He squirts more out, and instead of eating it, he puts it to use. I jump a little as I feel his hand on my cock. Even with the layer of the condom, I’m still very sensitive. I hope I don’t cum too soon. That would be humiliating. 

He strokes on the lube and I can already feel my orgasm start to build. I haven’t topped in so long. I’m rusty. 

He lets go, almost like he read my mind. 

I see his hand go behind him. He’s opening himself up a little. I wonder how tight he is... is he tight at all? What if he’s loose and I can’t orgasm. That would be mortifying. 

His eyes shut as he gets into his preparation. 

“Sorry, I haven’t bottomed I’m awhile. Forgot the feeling.” He says breathily, like an angel; a sexy angel. 

He scutes up, lining himself up with my member. I grab onto the sheets nervously. 

He slowly impales himself. His walls hug my cock just right. Not too tight, not even close to too loose. 

“Fuck.” He whimpers out, as over half off my dick slides inside him. He has his head held back and he’s already fondling himself. Maybe I won’t be the one who has to worry about coming too soon.

“You enjoying yourself?” I ask, rubbing the sides of his hips with my hands. He lowers himself more, almost all the way. 

“Yeah. You feel so good.” He looks down at me, smiling. He puts his hands on my chest, spreading his legs a little wider as he goes all the way down. 

“God.” He moans. “I feel so full.” He shuffles his hips a little, causing me to grab them tighter. 

“You like that?” He smirks, rolling his hips again. 

Fuck yeah. It feels like a wet, hot towel and a blanket over that is hugging my cock, squeezing it. 

“Look at me.” I whisper sternly. He follows my command. He dazedly looks into my eyes, they’re sparkling like diamonds, as he moves up and rolls his hips down. 

His traces my nipples with his fingers, that still have the residue of the lube on them. It sends electric shocks threw my body, causing me to buck up into him. It catches him off guard and he falls forward a little. 

“Your nipples are sensitive, huh?” He looks at me with devilish eyes. I let out a drawn out moan as he continues playing with them, pitching and rubbing as he works my cock. It feels like the best body massage I’ve ever had. 

He pauses, almost twitches as his hips roll down. He bits his lip, closing his eyes. I see him inhale hard as he forces himself down. 

“Oh, fuck.” He moans out in a high pitched squeal. It the cutest noise I’ve ever heard. I’d do anything to hear that noise over and over. 

I take his as my sign to take control. I tighten my grip on his hips, sitting up a little as I move my hips up, fast. 

He grabs at my shoulders before falling forward, his head a inch or two from mine as I pound into him at full force. He hangs his head for a while, making small breathless noise before resting his head on my shoulder fully. He’s moaning so loudly into my ear. Any other time and I’d find it annoying but now all I see it as is motivation.

I pick up my pace, going as fast as I can. His hand is holding onto the side of my neck, and his other is most likely jerking him off. 

“Oh my god... fuck. Magnus.” He whimpers out. He leans up more, and I feel his tongue on my earlobe. Shit he’s going to make me cum. 

He follows my hips movements, moaning uncontrollably in-between sucking, kissing and licking my ear.

“You enjoying yourself?” I grunt out aggressively. He rest his forehead on my temple and I can tell he’s close. His hand is moving fast enough to create a fire on his dick. 

I feel his hips jerk and he grabs my chin, making me look at him. 

He’s drooling again. It’s so fucking sexy. His eyes look so dark, like a midnight sky. 

Before I know it, I feel his semen splattering against my abdomen. He lets out one finally squeak as he orgasms. His hips are shifting all over the place as he starts to irrationally hump me with his spent cock. 

He’s still softly moan, even after removing his hand and resting his head next to mine. I try and finish in the next couple thrusts, knowing how worn out he must feel. 

On this thrust I push in him and feel my cock twitch as I cum. I know he can feel it too because let’s out a heavy sigh. 

I push out and in, maybe two more times before I fully pull out, laying back. My body feels so heavy underneath Alexander’s. 

“You wanna go back to sleep now.” Alec giggles in my ear. I smile ear to ear with my last ounce of energy. 

“Mhm.” I trace down his spin as I feel myself drifting off. I can tell he’s already asleep by the wetness running down my neck. It feels like heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I say this every time but sorry for the wait  
> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> for questions and updates; http://tkorg-ao3.tumblr.com/


End file.
